Silver Lining
by Chronicleofabutterfly
Summary: The after math of Hell Hath No Fury. Part five in the series. AU
1. Thirteen Months

A/N: I guess I was having withdraws from the story. Anyway, this is the fifth story to follow the Redeeming Olivia series. Read those first or this will make about as much since as NBC not renewing MH's contract. Happy Readings. Oh, yeah, Santa never brought me the rights to the story so, alas, I'm somehow required to tell you that I don't own them. Nor am I a cop, lawyer, doctor, attorney or anything else. The story is 98 A/U. Always has been. Happy Reading.

Silver Lining

Chapter 1: Letting Go

The sun hadn't yet rose sending its August rays into their bedroom to usher them into the morning. The fact of the matter was that as soon as Elliot's eyes opened in the mornings his bones sent the signal to his brain that he was aching. Even after the time that had passed, even after the intense physical therapy and the two more surgeries performed on his body, the pain was usually relentless… until he rolled over.

As if everything, every ache, every searing pain and sleepless night could be instantly soothed by the woman next to him-it was. Immediately. He laid there, in the cool of their sheets, his smile growing larger in the pale illumination of their room as he took in his wife as she slept. Peaceful. Content. Naked. Next to him.

The fact that Olivia hadn't killed him yet or taken their children and cast him away made him fall helplessly and hopelessly in love with her each and every day of every year that they had been together. He watched her as she continued her slumber, her left hand positioned without care or finesse just over her perfect breast. The ring he'd slipped on her finger so many years ago as she lay asleep in a hospital bed, still very much present and making its self known by dancing with even the tiniest amount of light that could be found in the room.

He loved that ring. Loved that she wore it. Hated that she took it off, if only for awhile to wash her hair while she showered. She'd explained to him that after getting back into shape she'd taken it a step further and completely committed herself to being healthy and not just because they were the owners a gym that in it's first year almost failed miserably, but was somehow, by the grace of God saved and not just saved where they were barely making ends meet, saved so that they were prospering and preparing negotiations for an expansion, but for him, for their family.

She'd stepped up her health alright; her body was more amazing than he'd ever remembered. There was virtually no indication of her having bore him three amazing children, save Isaac's handprints that were tattooed to her flesh, a reminder of a time when he'd been so ruthlessly stolen from them, a time when he and Olivia had separated to save one another. Him from his drinking, her from herself. And then there was the C-section scar that he loved to trace as she slept next to him. Loved to remember the first time he looked at Isaac. The first time he held Hannah when she opted for a stubborn arrival while her brother Solomon decided to make Olivia go through a natural birth in order to see him.

And because she was so brilliantly sexy, not that she wasn't before mind you, but today she is incredible next to him and because she is incredible, because her body is as toned as it ever has been and she's simply smaller… her ring doesn't fit her correctly and so it bothers him when she takes it off to wash her hair.

It bothers him when she takes the ring off.

It bothers him because he remembers a time when she knelt in front of him as he sat in a wheel chair and she was willing to give the ring back. To leave and never look behind her. To ruin him.

If only to save him.

He can remember shattering in that split second and suddenly rebuilding the very instant he slipped the ring back on her finger… and she didn't fight it. They're journey to be where they were today, in that bed together as friends, lovers and parents had been excruciatingly long and to the average observer-impossible.

But the average observer didn't have their faith, didn't have their overwhelming passion and desire to be with one another, didn't have their circle of friends that stood next to them through everything, and while their friends occasionally took sides, they always provided a safe landing for he and his wife. More importantly, the average observer didn't have one key factor.

Samuel Elliot Wilson Stabler.

A little boy who insisted on four names. A little boy who, at the tender age of nine turned into a superhero and saved his brothers and sister from Richard White's attack. A little boy who tried so desperately to help his father, only to feel as if he'd failed.

A little boy who bounced back.

Elliot smiled to himself, pulled the sheet just a little lower over his wife's tanned skin and kissed the scar on her chest that Sam had accidentally given her in a fit of sheer terror as he'd tried to stab himself in their kitchen. Olivia had saved him. And that is what their family has been about. Saving each other. Laughing with one another and enjoying one another.

And yet, as the sun struggles to make it's self known through the trees that surround their county home, and as Olivia snuggles her sleeping body closer to him, humming her satisfaction of his skin against hers, there is still one thing, one asinine thing that, when the house is quiet, when his youngest child passes a stage in her life he'll never witness again, it gnaws at him. It festers and it rots so deep within him he feels it could be cancerous. It spreads through him in waves, never the small gentle ones that make the beach sexy and alluring. It's a tsunami of emotion and pent up rage and comes out of nowhere and culminates into a disaster once it hits.

Because it always hits the same beach.

Olivia.

It's not her fault that he can't get her pregnant again. It's not. He's dealt with that in the countless hours at Vivian's office. It is absolutely not her fault yet you'd never know it the way he attacks her from nowhere and what amazes him most, is that she is not only capable of weathering his unpredictable storm. She is willing. She is willing to let him release his rage and bitterness because she knows it has nothing to do with her per se. She knows that Richard White stole from him the profound ability to make life. To make life with her. Again. And that is where his torment is rooted.

She is quiet. Never barking back, but equally enraged and hurt he is sure, even though she will never admit it to him. She'll never tell him she wants another baby now. She'll never admit that as soon as their youngest babies had begun to draw in crayon on their walls, she wanted and longed to have another baby with him. She'd softened the blow, told him she was happy with their babies that they had and that being owners of a business now, they simply didn't have time.

They had time. No matter how demanding Olivia's job to maintain the finances of a growing company or rear three boys and a little girl that mirrored Olivia in every possible aspect… they'd make time.

If he could get her pregnant.

Which he couldn't.

Which festered and continued to rot within him.

And the only thing that hurts him more than knowing he'll never see her pregnant again, is seeing the longing in her eyes when she hold's Carp and Aimee's two-week old son, Soarin. Or the sound of her heart cracking when Isaac asked her for another little brother and Solomon second the motion while Sam enthusiastically provided his approval.

Those are the things that make his rage build. The fact that his family wants. The fact that he can't give.

The sun has crept it's way higher into the morning sky, highlighting Olivia's face with it's rays and in spite of the rage that still occasionally builds, she has all the power in the world to sooth the ache that is not just in his bones, but in his soul.

And it's in the quietness of the morning, when the anger stalks him that he silently thanks God that He blessed him with her.

He allows his eyes to adjust on the red numbers of the alarm clock, and while he wants nothing more than to gently wrap her leg around his waist and slip into her body just as he'd done when she'd come in the middle of the night after an incredibly long and drawn out mishap at the gym, as much as he wanted to feel the strength of her body against his he also knew that today would tax her system and she needed her rest.

He stretched delicately across her body and turned the alarm clock off, slowly resuming his previous position of looking at her. Analyzing and inspecting, looking for something that could tell him why in the world she chose to stay with him. To love him. To sleep next to him.

To adore him.

With everything she has within her.

"I can hear you thinking," Olivia said through a layer of grogginess as she snuggled even closer to him. "Go back to sleep. You're not allowed to think before six."

He smiled in guilt, knowing he'd been caught staring at her. Again. He caressed her cheek, kissed the corner of her mouth softly, "Get your rest, I'm gonna take care of a few things… I love you, Liv."

It was lazy, but her smile was sexy.

He slipped out of the bed, to which she protested but soon fell back asleep against his pillow as he donned his boxers and began to walk away.

"You forgettin' something?" she muttered into the pillow.

"Believe me," he smiled and bent low to kiss her cheek again, "I want to make love to you again, but my body is being extra difficult this morning."

She smiled softly, "I wore you out?"

"Yeah… your thighs are stronger than mine. I'm sure of it," he smiled and kissed her again.

"Good to know you want me," she muttered sleepily then added, "I was talking about your cane by the way."

He groaned, "Not using it."

"Fine," she curled up tighter to the pillow, "that was just a friendly reminder. Don't fall again, Elliot. You're a sac of bricks to pick up," she smiled again, "I'm going back to sleep."

He smirked, kissed her again and sneakily passed his thumb over her nipple. Her eyes shot open instantly and her mouth fell open in shock just as soon as he withdrew his touch, and smugly took his cane from the wall, twirled it in his hand and walked away, "Sleep taut-I mean tight."

"Messed up," she groaned and huffed as she plumped the pillow and let herself drift away. The sensation of his hand over her skin providing her with a pleasant companion to much needed sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Don't fall again_. Elliot scoffed and eyed his cane as he hung it on the counter's edge. He'd fallen. Hard. In fact, it had resulted in a complete shut down of his system. A flashback that sent him careening out of control. As if it were some sick encounter with deja vue, Olivia had been at work, meeting with marketing specialist to promote their business. Isaac and the babies were down for the count. Sam was at the movies with Crystal and her parents.

He had stumbled and fallen down the steps to their porch, his ACL tearing savagely just before his head hit the ground and for a moment; before everything went black he'd wondered if Richard White would be there again to take care of what he'd originally started.

He'd woken up to a frantic Olivia and from the sting on his cheek as she cried over his body he'd determined that she'd slapped him into reality. Sam had been frantic, apparently stumbling upon him as he walked up the pathway from the gate. Crystal's parents had always dropped him off at the gate. He was independent. But when Elliot's eyes focused on Sam, he was frantic and afraid and the weeks that had followed that night were cruel to the family.

Elliot was chastised by his doctor's for not using his cane, which resulted in his further injuring his knee beyond proper repair. Olivia dealt with his wrath. Sam became absolutely paranoid that Richard White was still coming for them. That his father would die.

Irritated with his memories, Elliot snatched his cane from the counter made his way to the coffee maker engaging it before completing his morning routine. He crept as quietly as possible into what was once a nursery, now a simple room that Solomon and Hannah shared and while Elliot didn't mind that his two three-year-olds shared a room.

It made Olivia nervous. Insanely nervous.

Not that she didn't have the confidence that she and Elliot were raising their boys correctly, but… what if? Her justification, her argument had been nature, his had been nurture, but her constant middle of the night checks on that one specific room, her constant questioning and pleading with Elliot to convert the office into another room or move Solomon into the boys' room was always evident and he understood exactly why.

She still didn't trust her genes.

Elliot bent low and kissed his son adoringly on the cheek as he slept. His once light blond hair now turned a faint chestnut color and was currently suffering the aftermath of a tootsie pop having found it's way into the long locks just last night. Elliot ran his hand softly over the mangle hair and smiled. Solomon couldn't sit still to save his life or his hair. Olivia's work, usually so precise was jagged and uneven. He'd exasperated his mother and she simply gave up and said she'd do it tomorrow.

Elliot fingered his son's hand me down pajama's that now covered his youngest son, remembering when Isaac was three and how much he loved and still loves to exasperate everyone who is unlucky enough to come within his path.

Olivia may not trust her genes even today, she may not, as much as she tries to convince herself and Elliot, realize that she is a good woman, but as Elliot crosses the small room and adjusts the battered one-eyed-teddy bear in Hannah's arm, he can see his wife, he sees what she must have looked like at three years old, because Hannah is a spitting image of Olivia right down to that almost inaudible lisp that is occasionally produced in their speech. She is her mother in every since of the word. Her lips, her eyes, her black hair and golden skin. How Solomon and Hannah are twins is beyond his comprehension, but she is certainly Olivia right down to the way Hannah caresses Elliot's cheek in the early Saturday morning hours. Her mischievous, crooked smile and her laugh. It's all Olivia, and while that typically doesn't scare Olivia, while she genuinely adores her children, Elliot has caught her, on more than one occasion starring at Hannah as if she were a mathematical equation. Something to be tested, figured out, analyzed; every square inch, every pore, as if looking for some sort of evilness she is sure she has passed to her. Yet, as Elliot grazes his lips across his daughter's cheek he knows that no one this beautiful, nothing this small and innocent could ever be spotted. And more importantly he knows that Olivia loves their daughter unconditionally, and while she may stare at her in wonderment. They are best friends.

"Daddy?"

Even her sleepy voice is Olivia's.

"It's very early, morning glory. Go back to bed."

" S'too erwly."

Elliot cupped her face gently and kissed her nose, "It is. I'm sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep."

"Daddy sad?" she asked as she mimicked his movements and cupped his scruffy cheek in her small hand.

Her intuition is all Olivia.

"No, morning glory, I'm not," he whispered and kissed her open palm, "close your eyes and go back to sleep."

"Daddy?"

The life in her eyes make his look dull. "Yeah baby?"

"You're the bestest daddy in the whole widest world."

Her ability to make him cry is so much his wife that it's frightening. He gives her a small smile as the tears in his eyes form and his throat constricts, "You're normally not a talker... some one put sugar on your tooth brush last night?"

She grins wide up to her father and the positioning of her teeth, the whiteness, the gum line, the way her tongue moves. It's all Olivia. Had it not been for her occasional temper no one would ever know she was his too.

"My teesies are super kween," she assured him and turned to look out her window, " S'too erwly to be sad."

"Not sad," he whispered through emotion and tucked the blanket over her body, "go to sleep morning glory."

"Love eww," she whispered and nuzzled closer to her bear, "so does Mr. Uno."

Mr. Uno. Sam had teased her and called the bear Uno because he had one eye and she insisted they bought that bear even when Olivia suggested they dig for a bear that hadn't been run over by every basket in the Wal-Mart or stepped on by every boot known to man. Hannah had rested her hand on her barely noticeable hip and insisted they got that bear. And of course, because there were five thousand other bears in perfect condition, they couldn't score a discount.

But she didn't go anywhere without that bear. Mr. Uno was to her like Moses and Zeus were to the boys and God help anyone who misplaced him or decided he needed to be washed or a hole sewn so the stuffing didn't fall out of him. She was protective of that bear even going so far as to stop talking to her mother when she'd discovered that Olivia had Febreezed the bear in order to at least mask the smelly stuffed animal. If Olivia has learned one very important thing in life, Elliot is sure it is to never ever mess with Mr. Uno.

Never.

"I love Mr. Uno," Elliot whispered as a tear slid down his bearded cheek, "but you… you're my one and only."

She smiled, raised her finger to her nose and shushed him, "Sshh. I no tellded mommy."

He laughed. Yes she would. Those two were inseparable. She'd tell her and he didn't mind.

"I love you little girl. Now get more sleep, mommy is gonna have a miserable day today."

Hannah's brows scrunched up, "Mommy sad, too?"

Elliot exhaled, "She's gonna be, but only for awhile and then she'll be happy."

"No more fart knocker?" she tilted her head.

"Hannah," Elliot's voice was precariously resting between scolding father and laughing dad, "Isaac is _not_ a fart knocker."

"S'too. Stinky."

"Be nice. And for the fifteenth time, go back to sleep."

"Love, ewe," she whispered once more and closed her eyes.

Elliot exhaled, bent low and kissed her cheek, "Not nearly as much as I love you, morning glory."

He stood to his feet and moved to walk away, "Daddy-"

"Morning glory-"

"Sowry Daddy, but you forgetted your stick… mommy get fruser….fusser….futerapated when you forgetted your stick, Daddy."

He licked his lips and grinned, "You are such your mother," he laughed and took his cane.

He passed quietly through the house again, his cane more of an irritation than a massive help, although Olivia and Hannah were right, the one time he forgets it will be the one time he falls square on his butt. Again.

Samuel surprised them both. Forcing them into clothing stores almost quarterly. At thirteen he stands nose to nose with his mother. The once small boy that most mistook for six when he was nine appeared to be fifteen instead of thirteen, but he was still Sam. Still an unbelievable boy that kept a listening ear out for each of his younger siblings and while Sam didn't recognize it, Elliot and Olivia stood by helpless and watched him fall in love with Crystal. At thirteen years old Sam carefully crafted their friendship, protected her and valued her and above all else he left her free to be her own person. To return his friendship or seek other friends elsewhere.

They'd stuck to each other like glue.

They'd become almost too close, causing both sets of parents to ask that they'd be separated during the school day in hopes of them having the opportunity to socialize with other students and make new friends that could potentially become close.

Biggest mistake they'd made thus far.

Sam's grades slipped dramatically. His temper flared. Would not talk to Mags. About anything. Crystal drew into herself and absolutely refused to function. The agitation of both kids grew and not even the weekend visits to one another's homes, the games of chess in the park or the lunch recess they spent together were enough to bring them back to normalcy. After careful consideration both sets of parents caved and by the start of summer school they were back together.

Moses looked up from her sliver of mattress, pleading for Elliot to buy a bigger bed so that she could more adequately nuzzle her Labrador body with her master whose feet were currently hanging off the edge of the bed. Zeus seemed to mock her from the other bed. Laughing at her because his master was still small enough that he could curl his Doberman-pincher form right alongside of him on the twin bed.

"Dad?'

Elliot turned his head from his middle son's stretched out body and found Sam facing him. Supporting his weight on his elbows as he faced Elliot's presence, "Right here."

Groggily, Sam groaned and ran his hand over his hair, "Mom was restless last night. She okay?"

Elliot grinned, "How do you know your mom was restless?"

Sam smirked, "Same way I know you're sad. That you've been sad and you try to hide it from us. Not cool, Dad."

"You callin' me lame?" Elliot chuckled quietly not wanting to wake up the little tornado currently resting on the other bed and waiting to spin just as soon as the alarm went off.

"I'm callin' you lame 'cause you think that mom doesn't read you. That you think I don't feel you," Sam told him matter of fact. "I hear you roam the house like a lost puppy at night, and it's gotten worse the past few weeks and mom is getting just as restless, is it 'cause of Isaac?" he asked as Elliot carefully set on the bed.

"Samuel-"

"Come on Dad. You're gonna try and shut me down. Every time you call me Samuel it's the same old thing. Dad. I'm not nine anymore. I'm a man now. You and mom. You've made me that way. I'm not afraid and you shouldn't be either. Neither of you should be."

Fact of the matter was, Samuel was a man at nine. He became a man the moment he'd closed the front door knowing his father was being beaten to death on the other side. "You're an amazing boy, Sam."

Sam groaned, "Dad… will you and Mom at least talk? I can't stand it when you guys are wound up it hurts my heart so much dad."

Hurts my heart. Some things never change. Sam was one of those things. He might have been taller. He might have been more confident and more daring when it came to connection with his parents but he was still that compassionate person that would fight with everything he had to save someone else.

"Sam-"

"Dad," Sam reached out and immediately embraced him, unconcerned that both men were only in their boxers, "Dad, she loves you so much. I love you so much, and God loves you more than any of us could ever, but you can't shut down on us now, Dad. You can't. Promise me you won't Dad."

"Sam-"

A firm squeeze, "Promise me, Dad."

"I'm not shutting down on you s-"

"You forgot about my swim meet yesterday-"

"Sam-"

Another squeeze, "And when we came home. You were just sitting here. You didn't have anything to do Dad, you just forgot about me."

"Oh, son. No-"

"Yes, it's okay," Sam whispered, "it is, but why are you pushing us away? Mom cries, did you know that? She cries at night and I hear her pray… she prays so long now, Dad."

Carefully, Elliot separated their embrace and wrapped his hand around the back of Sam's neck before kissing his forehead, "I never wanted to be a bad father to you."

Quickly, Sam framed Elliot's face and scolded him, "Don't say that! You're my Dad and you're great at it. Carp would say your spectacular and Robert and Paul, they've got nothing on you Dad. You're my dad, and I say you're the best. And us, we're all that matters Dad… do you believe me?"

Elliot exhaled and wrapped his son tightly in his arms, "You and the family are absolutely the best and most important thing. Your old man is just having a rough time right now."

"Will you and mom divorce?" Sam whispered.

"What?" Elliot looked at him in shock. "What? Why would you ask that, Sam?"

Sam exhaled, "We learned in school that over fifty percent of married people get divorced. Will you guys?"

Emphatically, "No! No, Sam. Why did you ask that?"

"Because, I can't figure you guys out," he confessed, "You get so mad that I can feel it inside of me and mom is crying-"

"Why does your mom cry?" Elliot whispered, "What do you hear her pray about?"

"Dad," Sam offered a scolded whisper, "you can't ask me to tell you that."

"I just," Elliot shook his head, "Sam, you need to know that your mom and I are stronger than ever, Son. We really are very happy-"

Pleadingly Sam grabbed his forearms, "Then why is mom crying again? Why are you angry?"

"I'm not angry-"

"Yes," Sam whispered and slipped out of the bed, "you are."

"Sam."

"Dad," Sam shook his head as he felt for his clothes in the closet, "My mother is crying at night. My father is angry and my heart hurts for both of you… is it…" he trailed off and pulled out a dress shirt and slacks.

"Is it what?" Elliot pushed as both Moses and Zeus looked on.

Sam licked his lips and exhaled, "Dad… mom prays at night… that she could… have… a baby… is that why you guys are so stressed right now? Does she want to have another baby and you don't want to?"

"Oh Sam-"

"Aren't you happy with us boys and with Hannah? Aren't you happy with mom?"

He's grown up over night and his questions were just as poignant as they've always been. "Sam?"

"Are you?"

"I'm ecstatic," he confessed honestly, "I love you guys. I'm very happy with you and the boys and Hannah and mom."

"Then… why don't you want a baby with her?"

"Sam," Elliot shook his head, his neck cramping, his jaw throbbing from clenching it. "I love you son, but this is not your place."

Sam exhaled, "I know, Dad," he confessed softly, "But can I have one more question?"

"One."

"Do you… do you not want to have another baby 'cause I was so hard to make into a man?"

Elliot spent years in the Marine Corps, hunting and plotting and stealthy moving against the enemy. He spent even more time behind a NYPD shield, stood toe to toe with rapists and men that would make the average man weep, yet he'd never been broken.

Until he had children.

His tears flowed freely as he stood behind his son and embraced him warmly and action that had taken years for Sam to be comfortable with, "Listen to me, you amazing man," Elliot whispered, "you have always and I mean always been a blessing to your mother and I. There has never been a day that has gone by that we regretted you. And as far as it being difficult to make you into a man… son, you've taught me more about what it is to be a man that I could teach you."

"Then… why don't you want to have a baby with mom?"

"I can't, son," he whispered in shame and slowly pulled away from his boy, "I can't… your mom is praying that we could have another one… we want another baby son, we do… but-"

"This is because of that _bastard,_ isn't it!" Sam spun on his heels.

His anger still hadn't been completely tamed. There were still times he surprised them with vocabulary so unbecoming his personality that it was almost comical. Almost.

"Sam. That's enough," Elliot warned.

"It's when he shot you isn't it?" Sam asked refusing to back away, his nostrils flaring, "He's a bastard for doing it and I hope he's rotting in hell."

"Samuel-"

"Forget it," Sam muttered and gathered his clothing, "I can feel when you're trying to sugar coat something Dad and I really think you suck for doing it."

"Samuel!" Elliot hissed as Sam ignored him and walked away.

"I need a shower," he muttered and left.

Elliot groaned and sat on the foot of Isaac's bed looking over at Zeus, "What are you lookin' at?" Elliot grumbled at the dog and rested his hand on the curve of Isaac's calf.

"Dad?"

Not Isaac's voice.

Elliot turned slowly to see Sam standing in the threshold. Tears streaming his face, "Sam?" Elliot whispered and was surprised when Sam instantly and as quickly as he could went to his voice and fell into his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Sam sniffled and squeezed his father. "I'm sorry I said those things, Dad."

"I forgive you," Elliot whispered and pulled back, "don't cry, Sam."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Sam whispered frantically, "I am. I heard mom pacing all night long and I got up to talk to her and now I'm grumpy and-and I'm tired Dad and I want you two to be happy and-"

"Shh," Elliot soothed and smiled softly, "you're okay. Nice to see that one of my kids takes after me, even if it is for the temper."

Sam pulled back, smiled sheepishly, "Talk to her dad… she's keeping me up," he chuckled and wiped his face with the back of his hand, "Take her dancing or somethin'."

Elliot grinned, "Go take a shower son… you stink."

"Dad!" Sam feigned shock and walked away.

In the distance he saw Isaac's Tasmanian Devil alarm clock ready to sound. He moved quickly and shut it off opting to have a few more minutes with his son. He sat carefully on the bed and rested his chin in his palm, "You're getting so big," Elliot whispered as his son continued to sleep. "I remember the day your mother told me she was pregnant with you," he chuckled softly, "I don't think I have ever seen your mother so scared in my life."

Oblivious to his father's turmoil, Isaac curled his body tighter and clicked his tongue in his sleep, "I remember the first time your mother fed you… son, you should have seen her face. She looked down at you and for the first time I saw this peace come over her…I'd like to be able to see that again to see-"

Before he could finish his rambling thoughts her scent hit his nostrils and his lips curled into a smile just as her hands embraced him from behind and rested splayed over his naked chest, "See what?" she whispered in his ear and gently nuzzled him with her nose.

"You're awake, you should be sleeping," he whispered and kissed her palms.

"Why is Sam upset? I saw him in the hallway, he's wound up tighter than a cheap watch," she chuckled, "Isaac tackle him this morning again? Sam hates that."

"No," Elliot smiled and motioned to Isaac, "He's recharging."

She smiled against him, "Uh… give him a few more minutes, huh?" she whispered and sucked softly on his neck letting one hand fall mischievously to his waistband, "Sam's in the shower and I checked on Solo and Hannah," she whispered and dipped her hand into his boxers, stroking him lightly with her index finger.

He grinned, "I'm still hurting from the middle of the night…. aren't you tired?"

"I recharged," she chuckled and added another finger to her mischief.

"Liv," he groaned, "Isaac is right here."

She held him firmly in her hand, "Didn't stop you when he was just born and you took me against the wall of his room… did you forget?" she whispered hot against his neck.

He whimpered and dipped his hand into his boxers to cover hers. To stroke him with her. She chuckled against him, "I think you remember… in vivid color?"

"Liv… I can't… you're gonna make me loose it, and… Isaac is right here."

From behind, she kissed his jaw, turned his face to meet hers as she continued to stroke him, his lips meeting hers, her tongue controlling him in a fraction of a second.

"Wake time!"

Definitely Isaac's voice.

Recharged and raring to go.

As if his groin was acid her hand flew out of his boxers and he nervously adjusted himself.

"Dad!" Isaac grinned and immediately crawled on his bed to his parents, "Mom! It's wake time!" he grinned and stood to his feet as Zeus slithered off the bed and flopped onto his bed on the floor.

"Morning, you good lookin' man," she chuckled and kissed him playfully on the cheek before Elliot took them both to the mattress and playfully hovered over them.

"Are you ready for today?" Elliot laughed and kissed Isaac on his forehead before kissing Olivia on the mouth.

"Grootie!" Isaac mumbled and separated them, "Mom! Mom I'm going to school today? Like Sammy does? Am I?" he asked anxiously.

Both Elliot and Olivia's countenance fell. They'd had a few years to prepare fort this day. To prepare for the day that Olivia would have to trust her son with a complete stranger, surrounded by strangers. For eight hours.

They'd fought about it.

She didn't want to do it. She'd home school him. Elliot had shot back, accusing her of being overly protective; he made it a point to remind her that Sam went to school and did just fine.

But Sam hadn't been stolen from them. While she was on vacation.

Sam hadn't been missing for thirteen months.

She knew her fears were ridiculous. She knew deep down that Isaac would be okay. They had it arranged, Sam would get out of school and he and Crystal would walk the three blocks to Isaac's elementary school and Olivia would pick up all three. Sam would feel like he was being a big brother and Isaac would be in school. Where he belonged. Only, according to Olivia, Isaac belonged in her arms. Where he could see her, where she could see him. Hear him, smell him and know exactly what was happening at any given point.

To never risk the possibility of loosing him again.

"Am I?" Isaac asked again, his blue eyes starring wide into his mother's brown ones.

Elliot saw the tears build in her eyes. Felt his own tears build. Not necessarily because his boy was getting ready for his first day of school. But because that now meant he'd only be able to experience it two more times with Solo and Hannah. Which, technically, counted as one time.

"Dad! Mom's not talkin'!" Isaac chirped, "I wanna go to school like Sammy… please! Pleeeeeaaaseee can I go!"

Olivia chuckled and sniffled as she kissed his cheek and let her lips linger, "Course you can baby. Did you think we'd say no?"

He laughed, plopped down on the mattress before bouncing off and heading to the closet, "I'll be a ladies man."

Elliot laughed, "What in the world are you talking about?"

Isaac scooted a small stepping stool in front of him and stood on it to reach for his clothes, "Sammy went to school and he got Crystal. Aunt Alex teaches school and she got Uncle Robert and Aunt Casey went to school again and she got Uncle Paul," he said pulling a pin striped shirt from a hanger and a pair of slacks, "and then mom gradumatated and she has you," he said matter of factly and held up a green tie to Sam's old pink pin striped shirt. Decided it matched and stepped off of the stool.

Olivia laughed, "What are you getting all dolled up for, huh?"

"You go to school and you fall in love. That's how it goes," he told her, "I got to get ready, now. You have to go away so I can get ready."

She laughed harder as Elliot stood with a grin, "I'm gonna start breakfast," he half laughed and kissed his son on the head, "You need to learn how to tell time before you start wanting a lady."

"How come I need to know time, Dad?"

Elliot smirked, "So when you finally get that lady, you know how to measure eternity."

Olivia smacked him playfully, "Shut up!"

"What!" Elliot laughed, "That was a compliment! I'll happily spend eternity with you, Liv."

"Yeah," she rolled her eyes and searched for a different tie," 'cause that's exactly how you meant it… I want my eggs over easy, please."

He laughed and turned to leave.

"Daddy!" Isaac chirped and moved quickly, gathering his cane and holding it to him, "Forgot somethin'?"

Elliot laughed, looked past his son to his wife, "You've got them all trained, Liv. That is so wrong."

She smiled at him as he walked out and left her alone with her son, "Why are you getting all pretty on me, huh?"

Isaac stared at her, his mouth falling into a perfect 'O', "I'm not purdy. Sammy say's boys are handsome. Not purdy."

She smiled, caressed his face tenderly, "Isaac," she said softly, and out of now where her smile fell giving way to a sadness she's kept from him, "I missed you."

Confused, he looked at her, "When, Mom? I was asleep and now I'm awake… did I sleep more days than I was 'posed to?"

_Thirteen months._

She swallowed the lump in her throat and cleared her voice looking down at the clothes in her hand, "Honey, you don't like to wear this stuff… what's up?"

He smiled at her, "I'm a good lookin' boy, mom. I'll look good, like when Daddy takes you out for mommy and daddy time. I'm cute."

She chuckled out loud and held up the clothes, "You should ask your brother how to match, 'cause this green tie doesn't go with a pink and silver striped shirt, and neither of them goes with these slacks."

Isaac tilted his head, "Match?"

She smiled, "If you want this shirt, you wear this tie," she said handing him Sam's old silver one and these black slacks-"

"And my sneakers, like Sammy!" he finished excitedly. He had a big brother and he wanted to be exactly like him.

She smiled and took him into a sudden hug, "I love you."

He giggled against her and then exhaled, "Mommy? You sad?" he asked and pulled away from her.

"No."

"You cryin'," he whispered and swiped his hand over her moist cheek, "I'm sorry I don't know how to match clothes."

"Oh, baby," she whispered and splayed her hand over his small naked chest, "no. That's not what makes me sad…. I just… you-you remember our rule about talking to strangers, right?"

He smiled, "Mom, if I can't talk to people I don't know… how will I meet a girl?"

She laughed and her tears fell faster, "Baby… do you remember?"

He shook his head, "Yep. If someone bigger than me wants to talk to me or take me somewhere I turn around and find someone I know. If they touch me I scream and yell and fight and do the things you show me and Sam."

She nodded softly, "And if someone comes to pick you up from school other than me and daddy what do you do?"

"I see if they have Sam first 'cause Sam will always be picked up first and then I ask them what our secret word is."

"And what is it?"

He smiled, "Can't tell ya. It's a secret."

"Hey!" she tickled him playfully, "Spill it!"

"It's peace! Stop the madness!" he yelled and tickled her back only to have her wrap her arms around him again.

"I missed you."

"Mom," he whined, "I never went no where."

She pulled back, looked at him carefully, grateful he didn't remember anything, "I know you never went anywhere," she lied, "I'm just learning how to say it so when you're a big boy and you go to camp and stuff… I'll know how."

"I'm a big boy. Can I go to camp, now? Sammy went to camp and I got left all alone. Can I go to camp?"

She smiled, "One heart break at a time, son."

"Heart break?" he frowned, "I break your heart? How?"

She shook her head, her tears falling, "No baby, you don't break my heart… I just, didn't sleep really well last night."

"Sammy was mad."

"Mad?" she tilted her head and stood to gather him fresh under clothes.

"He wakeded me up so we could hear you better. He says four ears are better than two. But I think his ears are better than a million 'cause he hears everything. Even when you cry way on the other side of the house."

She shook her head, "I wasn't crying."

"Yeah huh. I heard… why you sad, Mommy?" he asked and leaned his head into her hip, "Sammy gets upset when you cry 'cause he says this time he doesn't know how to fix your hearts… Mom?"

She sniffled, "Yeah baby?"

"If I knew how to fix your heart," he whispered and peered up at her, "I would fix it… 'cause I love you that much."

She knelt in front of him and ran her hand through his long blond hair, "Do you remember when you cut your own hair?"

Absently, he touched his locks and shook his head, "No. I like my hair. Think the girls will like it? Georgia from Sunday school is purdy."

Olivia smirked, pressed her forehead to his, "You don't believe in cooties or what?"

"Cooties?"

Olivia winked, "You'll learn about them in school… little girls gott'em."

"S'hat what makes them purdy?"

"I give up," she chuckled, "go brush your teeth."

"Is my grill kickin?" he asked and breathed heavily into his hands.

"And we need to limit your time with Uncle Fin," she scolded playfully as he left. In his boxers. It had taken them three years to get him to stay in his boxers…and it's still hit and miss, and as he walks out of the room, and down to his restroom to pick the fight with Sam that typically occurs when they both need to use the restroom, she can only pray that Sam gives him mercy and that God has mercy on her.

That He gives her strength to trust a stranger with her son.

For eight hours a day.

Five days a week.

When he was missing for thirteen months.


	2. No Faith

Silver Lining

Chapter 2: No Faith

Rated: R If your under 18 beat feet. Go read somethin' else.

A/N: You know how I said this was gonna be all mush? Yeah… scratch that.

The water takes his frustration away as it pelts his body and provides a massaging sensation throughout his back. It almost takes away his overwhelming urge to drink. Almost.

"Room for one more?" Olivia smiled from the shower door and slowly pulled her camisole over her head before casting it to the floor.

"Always," he smiled and helped her into the shower, his hands immediately wrapping around her waist, his face buried tight into the contour of her neck. He rested there for a long moment, "I love you."

She furrowed her brows, kissed his damp hair, resting her hand along his cheek, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I just… Isaac's got a big day today, you know?"

"I know," she whispered and nodded her head, "but… you've been in a funk for weeks-"

"You've been upset too."

"Are we in a competition?" she asked softly, searching his face, "Are we trying to see who can be the most angry?"

He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, "I'm sorry."

"I know… I'm sorry too. I've been… grouchy since we enrolled him in school. I just… the thought of loosing him again… it… it's always in the back of my mind, you know? And now that I have to willingly trust him to some teacher I've never met… it puts that fear in the front of my mind. It scares me, I mean… what if she takes her eyes off of him when he's at recess or what if sh-"

"Shhh," he whispered and pulled her gently into the stream of the water, "Shhh, Liv, no… Nick is dead, White is dead… no one is coming for our babies, no one is coming for us, Liv. No one. I promise."

She sniffled against his slick chest, nuzzled closer to him and exhaled, "I know I'm being ridiculous, but it doesn't change the fact that I worry every second he's away from me."

Elliot exhaled against her, kissed the crown of her head, "I love you."

"I know… I love you."

"It'll be okay… how much time do we have?"

"Sam is helping Solo and Hannah. Isaac is asleep on the couch."

"Asleep? We just got him up," he smiled.

"He's making sure he's really well rested… I feel sorry for his teacher, he's such a live wire," she chuckled and smiled against him as his body started to rock side to side, "You trying to dance with me in the shower?"

"Go on a date with me, Liv."

She pulled back, looked at him and smiled, "It's not Tuesday night."

He grinned, kissed her softly, "I don't care. We'll go out on Tuesday too. Just… go out with me, baby."

She kissed him softly at first, felt his tongue stroke hers gently before she deepened the kiss, kissing him more passionately as she breathed in the water that hovered over his lips, felt his body swell against hers, her hands framing his face as they searched one another. She broke away and panted, "Don't tease me, El… not this morning, please?"

He smiled, "Did you like my eggs?"

She grinned, nuzzled his nose, "Yeah, thank you."

"Go out with me," he told her again, bringing her hand from her cheek and kissing her knuckles. Groaning at the absence of her ring. "Liv-"

"It slips off in the shower… I don't want to lose it in the drain," she defended and rested her hand on his chest, "Elliot… your body is tense, please tell me what's wrong."

"Have you thought about it?" he blurted softly.

She arched her brows and smirked, "Making love in the shower? Yep. A lot."

He smiled softly, "No… I mean…."

"Isaac's kidnapping?" she furrowed her brow up at him, "Yeah."

"No," he swallowed and brushed her wet hair from her face as the steam built around them, "Liv… I saw you hold Soarin. I saw it in your eyes, Liv-"

She shook her head, moved his hand from her, "Don't do this, Elliot."

"I want to go back to the doctor and see if I'm shootin' blanks," he forced a small smirk to try and lighten the situation, "one more test, Liv."

She looked up at him and exhaled seeing the storm and unease swim through his eyes, "Elliot… it crushes you. It changes you… you get so angry."

He nodded softly, cupped her cheek in his hand as the water streamed over both of them, "One more test, Liv… then…I mean…. do you want anoth-"

"Yes," she nodded her head emphatically, because the truth was, she's wanted another baby for the longest time. She wanted another baby as soon as Hannah and Solomon had hit the three month marker and as soon as Elliot had asked her the first time. Now, she wished she'd never have wasted time with a birth control patch. "I do," she worried her bottom lip as tears flowed. She sniffled, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nodded, "I do want another baby Elliot, but…I told you… we could ado-"

"I want one more test, Liv. One more, please. Give me that?" He asked pulling her arms from his shoulders and kissing her hands gently, "Please?"

"Elliot… we haven't been using protection since the first time we made love after your attack… nothing has happen-"

"I know that!" he hissed and pushed the door open in a sudden anger.

"El-"

"Forget it!" he snapped and pulled a shirt over his wet body.

"Elliot!" she called back to him and stepped out, grabbing his elbow and spinning him around to face her.

His tears stunned her.

He hadn't cried, in well, since Hannah and Solomon were one.

"Hey," she checked her temper and replaced it with compassion, "what's going on Elliot… please talk to me."

He rested his forehead against hers, dug his fingertips into her hips and exhaled, "I want another baby, I want to see you pregnant with another boy and I want to make love to you and know… that it's at least a possibility."

"Baby," she shook her head softly, "we can adopt… why do you have to see me actually pregnant?"

"Because," he cupped her cheek, rested his thumb near her chin, "I did it. I helped you make him. We made him, we loved each other and we made him."

She kissed the pad of his thumb as he delicately passed it over the seem of her lips," We have Sam… and he's amazing because we loved each other and we've made him into an incredible boy. But… we didn't _make him_, Elliot… are you not amazed when you see him with me?"

"I love Sam… he's my son," Elliot sniffled, "he'll always be my son."

"Then… I don't understand your overwhelming need to make me pregnant… El… you want a baby and I want a baby, we can adopt."

He was broken. So broken. "Olivia… one more test… please?"

She nodded softly, touched his face and kissed him tenderly, "You can have as many as you want, Elliot. I don't mind that you get tested, I don't, but I hate what it does to you… to us."

He rubbed his nose against hers softly, "I'll be good this time."

She arched her brow and smiled knowingly. There was still a hole in the wall of the office from the last test. From the last time he promised her he'd be good, "No you won't, but… if you need to do this, I'll stand by you."

He closed his eyes, exhaled in relief and held her waist, "Thank you."

"Elliot," she whispered and was taken back when he moved quickly, cupped the back of her head and put her naked body against the wall, his hips pressing into her.

Stunned, she tried to talk, "El-"

He nipped at her lip, caressed her breast and ground into her, "Go on a date with me, Liv."

"W-w-where?" she panted and instinctively raised her leg over his hip.

He took hold of her thigh, raised her leg even higher, opening her body to accept his, "It's a surprise," he said gruffly and lowered his face to tongue her breast. She bit her lip, fought not to moan, knowing that three kids were wide awake and waiting for their mommy and daddy to finish getting ready to take Sam and Isaac to school. "Let me hear you."

"Kids, El," she groaned and dug her hands into his hips, pulling him closer, "El," she sobbed, "please."

He grinned and pushed into her, pulled gently on her hair until she hissed and gasped in air, "Liv, Liv let me take you to the bed."

She pushed herself off of the wall and he took her immediately into his arms a perfect excuse not to use his cane. "El… the kids."

They moved frantically through the bathroom door, his steps faltering momentarily until his confidence was regained and they stumbled onto the mattress of their bed, "You didn't make the bed?" he asked through a grin as he helped her to the middle of the mattress parallel with the foot and head of the bed.

She groaned, her nails raking over his back, "The only reason," she gasped as her thrust into her, "I got up as early as I did… was to get you back in- Oh, Elliot – bed," she moaned as he continued to thrust, and just as he sped up, as their hands laced together and she rested her lips at his ears, her panting echoing, the door was thrust open.

"Mommer! Late!"

_Mommer_. Not the traditional Mommy or Mama or Mom or even Mother, it was Solomon's Mommer that screeched into their room. Their only child who did not understand that a closed door meant knock.

Elliot moved quickly, reaching for the edge of the comforter and wrapping it immediately over them both. No time to break their connection from their very much sighted son. "Solomon!" Olivia cried out with each of Elliot's movements, each of his attempt to cover them brought her closer. She stilled his hips, looked up at him with pleading eyes and pure mortification as Solomon simply walked in and leaned against the bed.

"Mommer! Late for Sammy and Sac. Late Mommer."

"Not late!" she said somewhere between a shriek and a scolding, "You're supposed to knock, Solomon."

He rapped his pudgy knuckles over the comforter, "Knock knock, Mommer," he smiled.

Elliot dropped his head to her shoulder and chuckled, "Yeah Mommer," he said pushing deeper into her, "knock knock… I'm gonna make you come right now."

She dug her nails into him and hissed, "No!"

"Solomon," Elliot called out over the comforter that covered them, voice tight, body on the verge of loosing control "give Mommer and Daddy one second."

"But daddy-"

Painfully, Elliot groaned, "One second, Solo!"

"But, I'wana go witchu."

"Solomon Stabler!" Olivia gasped. Elliot thrust softly; she struggled to stay still, not to arch into him not to cry out, "Elliot," she pleaded, "he's right there."

"Go see Zeus or there's no snake for you!" Elliot warned as the pressure in his body began to build, "Now, son!"

"Ah!" Solomon pouted, "But I'wana wrestle witchu too, Daddy."

Elliot pressed into her again, careful not to make his movements obvious, "If you want the snake, beat feet mister… and close the door!"

The door slammed. The comforter was thrown off of them and giggles were exchanged, "That was so wrong, Elliot."

He grinned, rocked his hips back and moved freely inside of his wife. She groaned, rolled him to his back and immediately took him deeper inside of her increasing their speed. His hands guiding her movements. She leaned forward, rested her chest against his and moved even faster until her body began to tighten and in one quick move, he rolled her to her back again, thrust as deep into her as he could and held it as she gasped for air, arched into him, clutching him with arms, legs and her body as she came.

He immediately slowed, "No," she moaned, "faster."

His only aim in life has always been to please her. His hips moved franticly faster, precise and as hungrily as possible until man and wife groaned against one another, her almost staccato whimpers an ego stroke as her body held onto his. Panting, she let her head fall to the bunched up sheets under them, "What was that for?" she whispered and finally willed herself to open her eyes to see him still hovering over her, "Trying to kill me this early?"

He smiled down at her, kissed her mouth gently, and wiped her damp hair from her forehead, "I love you."

She grinned, rolled him to his back and pinned him, still very much connected to one another, but she could feel him start to slip from her, "You've told me that a lot this morning," she whispered and kissed his neck, the underside of his jaw and finally his mouth, "I love you, too," she smirked, "and if amazing sex is all we have to show for it," she let out an exaggerated breath, "I guess I can deal with that."

He smiled lazily, she'd changed so much over the past few years and one thing was for sure. She absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt enjoyed sex. The fact that she could label it sex without feeling dirty the fact that it wasn't always making love, that sometimes it was simply having a whole lot of fun was a turn on and a sign of her continuing growth. The only apprehension that ever existed between the two was the apprehension of trying new things and the apprehension usually was the result of neither one of them having tried something.

Like anal sex.

He laughed out loud to which she pulled back softly and smirked, "I'm not that funny."

Slowly, he reached up and caressed her cheek, "You're beautiful."

She smiled down at him, "You're buttering me up for something… what gives?"

"Go out on a date with me?"

She arched her brow, leaned forward and kissed his cheek, dragging her teeth along his jaw until she kissed his ear lobe softly and stroked his sensitive length between them, "Liv-" he hissed and chuckled, holding her hips, "come on. Are you really gonna make me beg for a date?"

"I'll make you a deal," she smiled and continued to fondle him gently.

Both startled at the sound of a slapping hand against the door, "Mommer!"

In unison, they turned to the door, "Go away!"

"Mommer! Pweaze!"

Exhausted with the interruption Elliot found his best firm voice, "Son, if you do not get away from the other side of that door, Mommer isn't taking you to buy that snake today. Understand?"

Solomon groaned against the door and kicked it. An obvious trait coming from Isaac.

Olivia laughed, "They have your temper."

He smiled, searching her face and kissing her gently, "We're gonna be late."

"I thought you wanted an answer."

"You're bargaining with me," he laughed.

"I'm a mother," she whispered and moved his hand to rest on her naked breast, "bargaining is second nature."

He rolled her to her back, caressed her gently, bent his neck to kiss her softly as she ran her hand through his long hair, "Tell me your bargain," he whispered.

"Well," she smiled and arched into him, "I-uh, have that conference… I'll be gone for a week."

He stopped his movements, looked down at her, "I'll be okay… the kids will be-"

She shook her head, ran her palm along his shaft, "I'm not worried about that."

He smirked, "What's the deal then?"

"Maybe… I want a snake, too," she whispered and stroked him again.

He furrowed his brow, "Huh? You hate that Solomon wants a snake. You almost killed me that I said he could have one."

She grinned playfully and stroked him again, "Not that type of snake… come on, El… you've got to admit it was an interesting gift… let's try it." He exhaled into her shoulder.

The gift.

Given to her by Casey as a joke. Sort of. A kit to replicate his penis. This is where the apprehension came in. He'd never done something like that. Never. "I thought… Liv, you don't really care for the vibrator-"

She grinned, wiggled under him, "Only 'cause it's not you. And besides, the box says, 'life-like replica'… it's probably different from a vibrator, and there's only one way to find out."

"Mommer!"

"Snake Solomon!" Elliot reminded him until he heard his huff and tiny feet walking way, spouting off to his brothers and sister that Mommer and Daddy were making them late.

"Snake, Elliot," she whispered and pulled him into her. He groaned as she kissed his jaw and whispered, "I don't want to be away from you… give me something to take with me."

"Go on a date with me and I'll think about it."

She grinned, shook her head as she locked her gaze with his, "That box has been there for five months… I'll go on a date, if you do this for me."

He laughed, "You're blackmailing me?"

"Mmm, no. Not so much black mailing as bribing."

He exhaled, looked at the box that had sat right next to the sex furniture Vivian had given them, that they hadn't used since the first and last time. "You really want to?"

She grinned, "Yeah… but, Elliot… just so you know. I have every intention of going out with you tonight. And if this isn't for you, it's okay."

He smiled down at her, "Go out with me tonight, I have something planned for you… then, we'll do that before you go. I promise."

Her face lit up, "Really?"

He laughed, "Yeah-"

"Mom!" Sam's knock was heavy, "Mom, you okay? We're gonna be late! It's my first day! You know we have to walk around before all the other kids get there! Mom!"

"We're coming baby," Olivia smiled and Elliot helped her stand, "Get your book bags-"

"They're in the car," he groaned impatiently, "Mom, Crystal is waiting for me!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Lunches!" Olivia called out as she finally made her way down the hallway.

"Gott'em," Sam smiled and the sound of her voice and grinned when her arms wrapped around him, he hugged her tightly, "Morning, mom."

"Morning, handsome," she whispered, "how did you sleep?"

He exhaled, "Not so good. Maybe I should ask you how you slept."

She smiled against his cheek. The only person more in tune with her than her children, was her husband. "Sam-"

"You were upset, last night," he said and squeezed her tighter, "that's why I got up to talk to you, but even when I went to sleep… you stayed up and I heard you crying."

She exhaled, "Honey… you worry too much."

He pulled back, tilted his head, "This about Isaac?"

"Hey!" Isaac shot up from the breakfast table, milk dribbling down his chin, "Wha'bout me?" he mumbled around his bite of eggs.

"Sam," Olivia whispered and kissed his forehead, "I'm okay. I promise."

He exhaled and pursed his lips, "My tie straight?"

She smiled at him, ran her fingertips over his tie before running her hand though his shabby hair, "It's always straight, baby… you've gotten so tall."

He waggled his brows, "I've got these really amazing parents who take great care of me."

She wrapped her arm around his once small shoulders, now broad and strong, "I love you… you excited about today?"

He chuckled, "Yeah, but… one class, one class I don't have with Crystal… makes me nervous."

Olivia smiled in compassion, "She can't be in P.E with you son… it's a different type now, isn't it?"

He leaned back on the counter as Elliot snuck up on Solomon and picked him up in laughter, tossing him over his shoulder before closing the gap between them and smiling, a kiss on her neck, "I'm huntin' for my mornin' glory… know where I can find her?"

"She went back to sleep," Isaac called out depositing his plate into the sink, "said daddy wakded her up. Messed up the morning with Mommy."

Elliot gathered him up too, "Rat," he said playfully.

"Where's your cane, dad?"

Olivia turned quickly and gave him a stern look to which Elliot chuckled and immediately put Isaac down and leaned on him, "I'll walk with my boys. They'll help me… come on, we're gonna be late."

"Mom?" Sam whispered and exhaled.

"Son?" she looked at him in curiosity, "what's wrong?"

"Do you think they'll like me at the new school? Aunt Alex won't be there anymore, and I'll have so many teachers now."

"Honey," Olivia smiled, "you're gonna do just fine, I'm so proud that your in Honor's classes. You really raised the bar for Crystal, didn't you?"

"Crystal is smart, mom," he defended.

"I know she is," Olivia smiled, "I didn't say she wasn't, but… she wanted to be in the same classes with you. She had to study a little more, huh?"

Sam ran his hands through his hair, forward and back, a habit he's never shaken, "They'll be cruel to her, mom."

Olivia kissed his forehead, let her lips linger, "Then you'll protect her. You always have, baby."

"What if they're bigger than me? What if the people who are mean to her are bigger than me?"

She laughed and kissed him again, "Never stopped you, before… get in the car, I'll get your sister."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia tiptoed softly into the bedroom Solomon and Hannah shared and gently made her way to Hannah's small bed, smiling at the care free way her daughter slept. Sprawled eagle, on her belly without a care in the world. Just like her father. Olivia gently stroked her back and kissed her cheek, "Hey, pumpkin," she whispered through a small smile, "why you back in bed?"

Sleepily, Hannah turned over on her back and peered up at her mother, "Forgetted, wake me up, Mommy."

Olivia smiled and kissed the tip of her daughter's nose. A smaller version of her own, "I didn't get to wake you up this morning, I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Hannah smiled, showing her perfect set of teeth, " I'sa must."

"You coming with me to get Solo's snake?"

Her brows arched and her grin widened, "I get a kitty?"

Olivia pursed her lips, "Not so sure Zeus and Moses will let that happen."

Hannah smacked her lips and snuggled tighter against Mr. Uno, "S'not fair."

"Well," Olivia smiled, "I talked to daddy last night-"

"He's the bestest daddy in the whole widest world, mommy."

Olivia closed her eyes and smiled, "Don't have to tell me that twice."

"Why you cryin' last night, Mama? You coulda' slepted wid me. I'da protected you."

Olivia pulled her daughter up so her tanned legs hanged of the side of her bed, sneakers, which told her that only moments ago she was ready to head out and start the day, still on her feet, "You still my best friend?" Olivia asked, kneeling in front of her.

Hannah's pink lips grinned as her brown eyes lit up, "Always, mommy."

"I wasn't scared last night, honey. I promise you."

"Then why you cried for?" she asked and traced Olivia's cheek as if tear tracks were still present.

Olivia exhaled; her daughter's persistence in a matter was entirely her father. "I was just… super tired, baby. I got home, extra late and your daddy and I…uh," she cleared her throat remembering the feeling of Elliot thrusting into her from behind. He was soft, gentle. She loved it when he made love to her in the middle of the night, early in the mornings or when she'd come home late. She loved to be made love to, when all she could do was lay back and enjoy it, "we talked for awhile last night-"

" 'bout my kitty?"

Olivia grinned, "Yeah… daddy said you can have whatever you want, so long as it gets along with the other animals we have."

"Mommy?" Hannah smiled and draped her hand over her mother's strong shoulders as she rest the golden skin of her forehead against her mother's identical feature, "You forgetted som'ting else."

Olivia wrapped her hands around her daughter's narrow waist, "What would that be?"

"You forgotted to hold me and kiss me."

The corner of Olivia's mouth turned up, her eyes closed. The fact that her little girl wouldn't let her go a day without their normal morning routine touched her in ways that no one would ever be able to. The fact that Hannah hasn't yet figured out that she is identical to her mother, the fact that it scares Olivia that one day her daughter will find out where Olivia comes from, frightens her, but only as much as her mornings with Hannah comfort her.

Olivia pursed her lips to kiss her daughters and hastily looked at her watch before picking her up in her arms and moving to the rocking chair where she held her tight against her, the shampoo of her hair caressing her nostrils as Hannah's small hand held tight to her mother, "Tank you, Mommy."

Olivia nestled her lips closer to her daughter's scalp and kissed her softly, "You never have to thank me, pumpkin. Not for holding you," she whispered.

Hannah sighed contentedly, "Tell me'd a story 'bout you and daddy."

Olivia smiled. She has held her daughter in this same manner every day since she was exactly fourteen months old and Olivia had placed her in a time out for pushing Solomon into the wall as hard as her petite body would allow. To Olivia and Elliot's surprise, Hannah handled it as stoically as possible as her parents disciplined her.

She'd mimicked Olivia right down to the flaring of her nostrils as they continued to scold her. She'd taken in a deep breath, licked her lips cautiously and when her parents were done with their lecture. She'd placed her small hands on her pampered waist, bowed her head for a moment before immediately raising it. Brown eyes on fire as her brunette bangs tangled with her long lashes. They'd told her to go to her room and that Olivia would be in shortly.

Hannah had taken a bold look at her mother, refused to look at her father, refused to use her position as only girl to illicit the defense of her daddy. She turned on her tiny bare feet and calmly walked to her room. Where she was out of site of onlookers.

It was when Olivia had walked in, seen her daughter on her side, crying softly, that she knew her daughter was completely her right down to the last molecule. She'd endured the storm that a poor decision had caused and when it was just herself, when she was alone and in most need of comfort. She broke.

Just like her mother would have.

It had startled Olivia to her very core that her mannerisms were so ingrained into this one child. Yes, Solomon had some, specifically the way he'd swipe his brow in frustration and Isaac showed that he carried them when he fiddled with his crayons in thought, just as she fiddled with her pencils as she balanced the book work for their gyms. Even Sam seemed to mimic her in his touch and in his voice, but in Hannah, her mannerisms seemed to consume her on a cellular level.

On a genetic level.

And so, Olivia had picked up her daughter that night and held her tight in the rocking chair, her pampered bottom resting in Olivia's hand as she held her and touched her and analyzed her and loved her as Hannah cried into her shoulder. Held her and told her a story about her meeting Elliot and since then, she has asked for it every morning, and Olivia has happily given what she wanted and then some. Purposefully being the first one to wake her up every morning so they could have their girl time, away from all the testosterone-filled boys. Just the ladies. Just mother and daughter.

Bonding.

Elliot smiled from the doorway seeing Hannah in Olivia's lap, and while their time is getting away from them, he knows better than to intrude on them, he knows better than to steal this from them, and so, with a small smile he leaned his head against the door frame. Eavesdropping on their time together.

"Well, let's see," Olivia whispered and rocked her daughter softly, "did I tell you about the time your daddy first told me he loved me?" Olivia felt her daughter's lips smile against her neck, "Daddy and I were playing cops and robbers and this particular robber was really bad-"

"A fart knocker?"

"Hannah," Olivia warned but couldn't help her smile, "use your better words."

"Snot?"

"Try again."

"Bad guy?"

"Yeah," Olivia exhaled, "he was a really bad guy, and mommy really hates it when the bad guys get away."

"He gotted away from you and daddy?"

"Yeah," Olivia whispered and stroked her back, "he did, and mommy's heart hurt so much-"

"Did you cried?"

Softly, "Yeah, pumpkin. I did. A lot."

"Daddy, kiss it and make it bedder?'

Olivia grinned, "Yeah," she chuckled, "daddy kissed me and I told him I wanted to stop being a cop-"

"Why?" Hannah asked and pulled away to look at her mother.

Olivia continued to rock them as the sun continued to rise higher reminding her that her boys were waiting for them in the car, "Well… some ladies were hurt and I felt so bad for them. I thought, it was my fault-"

"Like when I sockded Solo?"

Olivia grinned, "Honey, that _was_ your fault."

Hannah offered a small smile. The same one Olivia offers when Elliot has caught her up to no good. "Daddy say he love eww?"

"Yeah," Olivia smiled, pushing Hannah's dark hair behind her shoulders, "He took me out dancing that night and told me he loved me."

Hannah scrunched her nose, "Daddy, not good dancer."

Olivia tossed her head back and laughed, "I know… but that's why it was so special, 'cause your daddy took me somewhere that would make me feel better… and he did."

Elliot smiled from the door way regretting that time was not on their side this morning. He composed himself as if he wasn't there the whole time, and knocked softly, "How are the two most beautiful ladies I've ever seen doing?"

"Daddy!" Hannah smiled and nestled closer to Olivia who stood with her daughter and turned to face him.

"Sorry… time got away."

"Don't be," Elliot laughed softly and caressed Olivia's cheek, a small kiss placed there before kissing his daughter's shoulder, "we've got to go. Sam and Isaac are having a heart attack."

Elliot turned to leave with Olivia holding onto his belt, their daughter on her hip as they walked through the hall.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, morning glory?"

"You forgetted your stick."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Santos!" Elliot smiled at the young counter worker at the gym. He was the epitome of athletic with an upper body to rival Elliot's and Mac's. He was dark and typically quiet and was indeed the ladies man at the gym. Just so long as he never showed interest in Olivia, Elliot would be fine with him.

"Hey!" Santos smiled from the counter and leaned over as people moved in and out the gym. The music in the background pulsing through the speakers as the smell of sweat permeated the building and the clanging of weights were matched only to the grunts of the people lifting them, "How ya doing, Mr. Stabler?"

"Good, but I've told you time and time again we prefer you guys to call us my our first names. None of that uptight bull." Elliot smiled, "How are things going here? Good? Everything okay?" he asked, "Is my eleven O'clock here yet?"

"Nope. Cancelled," he said handing him the message, "Uh… what's wrong with Mrs. Stabl- er, I mean, Olivia."

Elliot's face shot up from the message, "Wrong? What do you mean wrong? Where is she?"

"In her office," Santos nodded towards the top floor, "nothing major, I don't think… it's just, uh… she's completely unnerved. Never seen her like this."

Elliot exhaled, "Isaac's first day of school."

Santos' eyes grew wide, "Most women are happy to get one off to school… I thought she was gonna home school."

Elliot shook his head, "Change of plans… do me a favor, cancel the rest of my training sessions-"

"Mr. Stabler… you're the lead trainer here… that's a lot of people today-"

"Well," Elliot bit his lip and looked toward the stairs, "Call them, see if they don't mind training with another trainer, and then don't redeem their sessions… they'll be free this time. Just cancel mine, and I think my wife had a meeting at twelve, cancel that and cancel her training sessions-"

"She'll kill you."

Elliot smirked, "She'll live… do it please, and hold our calls."

"Will do."

Elliot turned to leave only to be stopped by Santos's voice, "Elliot… you forgot your cane."

Eliot stared ahead, tightened his lips in irritation and snatched it from the counter, "Thanks."

Santos smiled and followed through with Elliot's instruction.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Unnerved wasn't quiet the word Elliot would have used. He would have used the words, panicked, freaked, scared, broken, fearful. He would have used those and then added terrified as he gently nudged Olivia's office door open and saw her sitting in her leather desk chair she'd scored from a thrift store. Still in the box. She was tense and her legs were shaking violently in her dress slacks as she held tightly to Solomon.

Who was supposed to be in day care.

Along with Hannah who was camped out on the floor. Asleep.

"Olivia?" Elliot called softly into the room. Her hold on their sleeping son tightened as she sniffled against his hair.

He made their way to them, casting his cane to a chair and delicately prying her fingertips from around Solomon's body, "Let go baby."

"No," she whispered as her tears fell and she held tighter, "no, he's mine."

Elliot smiled softly and rubbed her hands with his before prying her hands away, this time successfully. He removed their son from her lap and gently laid him next to Hannah. The bond the two children shared in the womb still evident as they instantly curled next to each other.

"No!" Olivia hissed and stood to separate the two, only to be stopped by Elliot. His embrace. His hand cradling her head. His other pulling her close.

"They're fine."

"They can't… we can't… put them together-"

He whispered softly against her and extinguished the lamp on her desk. Casting the room pale, "He's not Oliver and she's not you."

She closed her eyes tight opened them and stared over his shoulder at her three year old children. Innocent. "But-"

"He's not Oli-"

She pulled back, shoved his shoulder in anger, "I know that!" she hissed and turned around, her hand brushing through her hair, exposing the small section of greys she'd wanted to dye, to which Elliot had begged her not to. Said it was sexy.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her neck, "Liv… we agreed they'd go to day care, so you could work here more and spend more time at home not working."

She pulled out of his embrace, walked to the large window of her office that over looked the floor of the gym. The people working out, the friendships being made. Relationships developing. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He took a deep breath, turned her to look at him and caressed her face softly until scared browns met compassionate blues, "What happened?"

She exhaled, "Our day-care facility is almost re-modeled here… they can come to work with me, and be with you between your training sessions or if it's days when you're working with Fin and the guys then… then… I don't know, I'll figure something out. El, we tried day care for a week and they came back with mouths like sailors. It took months to break Hannah and Solomon from dropping the 'F' bomb."

He furrowed his brows at her, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her temple, "That's not what I mean… if you want them here. That's fine. No day care… but day care doesn't have you shaking and crying. It doesn't have you this angry."

She let out a shaky breath and covered his hand with hers, kissing his palm before resting her head on his chest and exhaling. Holding onto him. Begging silently that he didn't let her go. He didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't. After several moments her confession, "He… he didn't even kiss me."

Elliot exhaled, kissed the crown of her head, "Baby… he was excited, it was his first day of school. I guarantee you, he'll hate it by next week and he'll want to stay with you."

She shook her head against him, "He just… got out of the car and bolted to Alex… no bye, no nothing."

"Well… at least now we know he's in Alex's class… he's safe, Liv… how many times, did you call the school to check on him?"

"I didn-"

"Liv," he squeezed her tightly, "tell me."

"Just once, to make sure he got to the right classroom."

"Once?"

"Or twice."

"Or twice?"

"Alright," she groaned, "they finally asked me to stop calling, and assured me he was fine."

"He's growing up, Liv… we can't protect him all the time-"

She glared at him, "You mean, like I didn't protect him by going on that stupid vacation?" she bit. Bitterness unchecked.

"That's enough. Olivia," he said softly.

"It's true, isn't it? I mean, I went on vacation and he was taken from us," she sobbed, "then I go to work and he's almost killed in his own home," she yelled angrily, tangling her own fist in her hair and sobbing, "He's out of my sight, and every second he's out of my sight I know I'm gonna loose him."

"No," he assured her and closed the gap she'd opened between them. He framed her face, "no. He's ours. Only ours. No one will ever have him. No one will ever take him from us again. I promise you, Olivia. No one. He's growing up, he's gonna get independent."

"Even Sam kissed me goodbye."

He smiled, "Sam would die and thousand deaths then to not have your kiss before he leaves for anything."

"I hate that he's not here with me, it makes me nervous and I can't think, and I know I sound insane, but Elliot… what if they're not watching him? What if Alex can't get to him in time?"

"Olivia… he's in Alex's class… she'll keep good care of him."

"What if there's a sub or-"

"Stop this!" Eliot said, holding her firmly at her arms, "Stop what you're doing to yourself! He was taken from us, Liv. _Taken_. We didn't do anything wrong!" She closed her eyes, let out a sob and let him take her back into his arms, "You didn't do anything wrong," he whispered, "nothing, baby. Nothing. I promise you."

She exhaled against him, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."

He smiled, kissed her forehead gently, "Don't be. We knew it would be a little harder to see him go. You're a great mother, Liv and you're sexy to boot."

She smiled against him, pulled back and looked at him shyly, "Even with the gray hairs?"

He ran his fingertips over her small patch of gray hair and smiled, "Especially with the gray hairs."

She sobbed and laughed, resting her head into his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Elliot."

"I forgive you… we're okay."

"What's in the bag?" she whispered and nodded to the bag he'd left near her desk.

He kissed her mouth softly, "It's a surprise for tonight."

"Can I see?" she asked with wide glassy eyes.

"Did you not hear me? It's a surprise… for _tonight_."

She grinned, "If it was a surprise and you didn't want me to see it… why'd you bring it here?"

He smiled against her, the scruffiness of his beard he kept not just for her, but to cover the scar on his face as well, scraping against her, "To torture you."

She laughed, kissed his lips again, "I really like this," she whispered and stroked his cheek.

"Yeah? How so?" She blushed a furious red and bowed her head. He tilted it back up and smiled, "Tell me."

Gently, she kissed his lips, sucked softly from his lower one, "I like it when… you make me come and you rub your cheek against mine."

He was intrigued with her simplicity, "That's it?"

She grinned, "Oh, there are other sensations you give me with it but uh, if you haven't noticed, we've got two little ones, five feet from us."

He sat softly in the chair and pulled her into his lap, "I canceled all of our appointments for today."

"What?" she furrowed her brow, "Mine too?"

"Yeah."

"Elliot… I had a really important one coming up… you didn't-"

"All of'em. We need to go out tonight. And we told Morning Glory and Solo we'd get them animals today."

She closed her eyes, "I wasn't expecting you here until your eleven O'clock. I thought I had time," she whispered.

He furrowed his brows, "For what?"

She exhaled, smiled at him, "Nothing. Forget it. Did you get a doctors appointment?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "Next week."

"Next week? I thought they'd get you in sooner."

"Could have gone in today," he smiled devilishly.

"Why didn't you?" she asked in curiosity and rested her head on his shoulder.

He chuckled, "Uh, well… you know I have trouble filling the cup if you're not with me."

She laughed into his shoulder and then grew quiet, "Elliot?"

"Yeah?" he whispered as Solomon started to move in his sleep, indicating their moment of flirtatious banter would end soon.

"If the test… doesn't come back the way we want, then what? Can we adopt? I mean, we're getting older, Elliot. If we want to add one more… we've got to do it soon. I don't want to not enjoy a baby because I'm too old."

He licked his lips, "Well, we-"

"Excuse me," Santos gently interrupted.

Olivia quickly stood and adjusted herself, wiped her tear tracks, "Santos.. yeah, yes? What is it?"

"I'm sorry;" he smiled looking between the two, "am I… is this a bad time?"

Elliot stood, "No, its fine. What's up?"

"The attorney for Mrs. Stabler is here."

Olivia visibly cringed.

"Attorney?" Elliot frowned and stared at Olivia.

Nervously, she combed her hair behind her ears and smiled up at Santos. Busted.

"Yes," Santos smiled, "From the adoption-"

"Adoption?" Elliot's face paled as he slowly turned to look at Olivia who quickly found a spot on the floor and stared at it. So extremely busted.

"Um," Santos fidgeted, "I'm gonna send him away. You look busy."

Olivia puffed out a wind of breath, "Thank you, Santos."

He left Olivia alone, to an enraged Elliot.

"You went behind my back," he hissed and turned to look at her as soon as the door closed.

"El-"

"You didn't have enough faith that it could work out," he eyed her in anger.

"Elliot," she exhaled and walked to him, "honey, you said you wouldn't mind adopting… I thought-"

"You thought what?" he exhaled and crossed his arms over his chest, "That I couldn't get it done? I couldn't get you pregnant? It wouldn't work out? What!" he hissed, "How long, Olivia?"

She furrowed her brow, "How long, what?"

"How long have you had no faith in me?"

She choked on her tears, "That's… that's not fair, Elliot."

He scoffed, "What's not fair," he said softly and picked up the bag, sloppily letting it land on her desk, "is making love to me… when you have no faith in me."

"Elliot," she exhaled, "baby, please, lets talk ab-"

"I'll see you tonight." he swallowed hard, "Remember to pick up the snake for Solomon, or he'll have a fit. The dry cleaning is due too."

"El-"

"Bye," he said softly and walked out of her office, gently closing the door behind him. She exhaled, running her hands through her hair and glaring at the ceiling before making her way to the window and watching Elliot pass across the floor of the gym. Avoiding people he'd normally talk to. Getting away from her as quickly as possible.

She watched him walk out of the gym, exhaled against the glass, and whispered so that only the walls could hear, "You forgot your cane."


	3. Forgiven

Silver Lining

Chapter 3: Forgiven

"Dat one, Mommer!" Solomon pointed frantically at the large reptile tank that encased an albino boa constrictor. "Dat one!" he tapped the tank…. right next to the sign that politely asked onlookers not to.

Olivia arched her brow as she bent low, Hannah hanging on her back, her arms locked around her mother's neck as Olivia held her forearms, "Uh, that's a no."

"No?" he questioned in complete shock, his blue eyes growing wide, his mouth falling open, "but, you saided I could get one!" he protested.

"Yeah," Olivia agreed looking at the massive snake, "when I said that, I meant one that isn't able to eat you… and preferably one that is under a thousand dollars."

"Lot's of dollars, Mommy?" Hannah asked, looking over her mother's shoulder at the enclosed reptile.

"Yep… look for something else, Solomon," she exhaled softly and stood. She wanted to talk to Elliot. Needed to tell him she was wrong.

"But, Mommer," he whined and turned to face her, his head on the aquarium as he looked up at her pleadingly, "You saided I could pick," his voice grew softer, sadder as he jetted his lip out, "I pickded that one."

Olivia kneeled in front of him, holding Hannah under her small thighs, "Baby, the snake is too big for you. I still think you're a little young… he'll eat you. And it's too expensive, Dad will kill us."

He looked down, pushed his lip out further and toed his shoe, "You could sellded sister."

"Hey!" Hannah protested, "Fart knocker!"

"Hannah," Olivia warned, "that's a one and save my ear will ya?"

Hannah stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"I heard you stick your tongue out, that's a two," Olivia warned and stood. "Solo, ask the man to see a different snake."

Solomon groaned and walked to the reptile handler as his mother stuck close buy.

"Why sad, Mommy?" Hannah whispered and kissed her cheek.

"Not sad, pumpkin."

"Yeah," she nuzzled her mother's cheek as she hung on her back, her long legs closed in front of her mothers waist, "you and daddy have hard words?"

"No-"

"I fibded, Mommy," she whispered, "I sorry."

"Fibded?" Olivia asked as Solomon shoved his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot as the reptile handler waited on another customer. His impatience was all his father.

"I not sleepies… I hearded you and daddy have hard words," she whispered in her ear.

Olivia closed her eyes a tear falling, "Honey, it's not good to spy on people."

"No cry, mommy," Hannah whispered and felt her mom's cheek from behind, brushing the moisture away, "Daddy love you. And he's the bestest daddy in the whole widest world."

Olivia rubbed Hannah's forearm vigorously and smiled sadly, "I know… but sometimes, mama really knows how to mess things up."

"But, you know how to fix the potty, and you know how to fix the car when it gets bwroken… don'tchya know how to fix hard words?"

"I don't know," Olivia whispered and whished the customer would hurry up and make up his mind as to what size mouse he needed to buy for whatever snake he had.

"You go time out and t'ink about what you done… that makes my hard words better," she whispered to her mom, " A'then daddy holds me… you wan daddy to hold you, mommy?"

Olivia exhaled, "Time out… I don't think that will work baby," she whispered and walked closer to Solomon to put pressure on the handler. She wanted out of there. Away from her daughter's knowing heart and piercing questions.

"What's adoption, mommy?"

_Holy shi-_

"Can I help you?"

_Finally! _Olivia exhaled and stood behind Solomon.

Solomon looked up at the man and placed his hands on his hips, "Mommer says I need a snake dat won't eat me… got one?"

The man smiled at him and then looked up at Olivia, his smile suddenly flirtatious.

_Oh, spare me. Not today. Not here with my kids. Jerk. _

"Can I help you, Miss?"

She rolled her eyes, "My son is the customer, not me. He wants a snake that won't eat him."

He nodded, and looked back down at Solomon, thankfully taking a hint, "I got just the snake for you. King snake… what do you say?"

"I'na see!" Solomon smiled, "Pweaze!"

The handler laughed, took him by the hand and pointed out the red and black snake, "You're a tiny boy for a snake."

Clearly insulted, Solomon looked up at him, "I'a man. Daddy and Sammy say so."

The handler grinned, "Let's get you a snake then," he laughed and stepped behind the enclosure, returning shortly with a small creature wrapped tightly around his forearm.

"Ooooohhhh," Solomon grinned, "Nana, I gonna scare you, lots."

"Shut up!" Hannah furrowed her brow, "not skerd of ew!"

"Hannah," Olivia tickled her thigh behind her, "That's three. There's your warning."

"No time out, mommy."

"Then focus on your words, honey."

Solomon looked up at both women, scratched his head and pulled on his lobe as a smile crept over his face, "Mommer, I hold it?'

Olivia grinned, "Yeah, honey, but be careful it looks like he's just a baby."

Olivia watched as the young snake coiled its self around her sons forearm, his tongue sticking in and out sampling the air as Solomon brought the snake to his face and smiled, "Hi," he grinned and looked at his mom. Fearless, "I get it?"

"Yeah." Olivia smiled softly as she dialed the number to Elliot's cell phone for the third time since they entered the pet shop and for the third time received no answer.

"I'na talk to daddy," Hannah whispered.

"Daddy's in a meeting," Olivia sighed and pocketed the phone.

"No," Hannah, exhaled, "No, he waitin' for you at home, mommy… I get a kitty?"

"Here ya are," The handler smiled, "Need a cage?"

"No," Solomon interjected and took the box from his mother, peering into the holes, his happiness barely containable, "my Grandpa Don boughted me one for my birdday."

"Bird day?"

"Birthday," Olivia whispered and exhaled, "recommend anything for a certain little girl?"

Hannah grinned, "Yeah, rekamend a kitty, pweaze!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey you!" Olivia smiled as Sam slid into the car and closed the door.

"Hi," he smiled and belted in, "Mom I got really hard classes, and Crystal is in all of them except P.E, but she has the same P.E. period as me so I get to hear her if she sees me first. Like today, she said hi to me during the run and her voice gets more and more beautiful."

"You're happy then?" Olivia grinned, pulling from the curb, "You like your new school?"

"Mmm," he loosened his tie slightly, "I don't like lunch time so much, it's so noisy mom and we don't get to go to Aunt Alex's room… but I get to sit with Crystal and we played chess today."

"That's awesome, I'm glad to hear that honey… and your teachers? Who's your science teacher?" she asked trying to dial Elliot's cell phone again and keep her eye on the road.

"You knew?" Sam asked with a smile, "You knew that Uncle Robert was gonna be teaching there this year?"

"Sam, your mother knows everything," she teased. _Except how to stop hurting your father._

They'd been doing so well for so long. They'd made it a point never to back away from one another. They've always managed to sit down and talk it out, but as she looks between her and Sam's seat, at the gift that was in the bag, the gift she doesn't understand, she just wishes he'd pick up his cell phone.

Just so she could tell him she was sorry.

"Mom?" Sam tapped her shoulder, "Mom, we're going the wrong way, why didn't you turn? I didn't feel the turn and why couldn't I walk with Crystal like we were gonna?"

"Honey," Olivia slammed the cell phone shut in frustration, "baby," she exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingertips, "I forgot that Crystal has a doctor's appointment today and her mom was picking her up."

Sam exhaled, "This for her face?"

"I'm not sure honey… but I think so."

"A surgery?"

She reached out and touched his leg gently, "If it is, she'll be okay."

"But, she's already beautiful, mom. Why does she need more surgeries?"

Olivia exhaled, making a turn, "Sam, it's not our place to wonder why someone is doing something. If she feels uncomfortable with the scar then let her do what she needs to do to feel better about herself."

He smacked his lips, "But," he muttered, "I want to be enough to make her better. I want to be like dad is for you, but I want to be that for Crystal."

Shocked by his confession, Olivia almost hit a car from staring at her son. She swerved. Hit the breaks just in time to avoid hitting the car in front of her, "Everyone okay?" she called urgently into the back of the car to assess her kids from the hard breaking.

"Sammy," Solomon called from the back of the seat as if nothing happened, "Sammy, I gotta snake!"

"Mom!" Sam groaned, "Snakes eat mice… that's messed up. Why did you let him get a snake? Why are we going the wrong way?"

"Sam," Olivia exhaled biting her cheek to keep her anger tamed, "we're not going the wrong way, the road is blocked where we usually turn and we have to pick up Isaac and second of all, it's not live mice… we made sure."

Sam groaned, "Mom… it's still mean."

"Fun!" Solomon spoke up, "Nana no getted one."

"Good," Sam exhaled and suddenly frowned, "Mom… why's your voice sad?"

Exasperated with the third degree from her children she bit her lip, "Not sad, baby."

"Yes you are," he whispered and touched her again, "different from this morning."

She looked over her shoulder for traffic, turned on her blinker and changed lanes, "Honey, I wasn't sad-"

"Yes!" Sam growled, "you and dad were both sad. Why can't you just fess?"

"Sam, don't raise your voice to me."

"Sammy bushted!" Hannah giggled.

"Hannah," Olivia eyed her in the mirror, "that's a one."

"But mo-"

"That's a two," Olivia continued as she pulled the vehicle up to the curb.

"Mom," Sam whispered, "Mom, I'm sorry I raised my voice, but… why was Dad crying this morning? Why were you sad? Why are you sad now? I mean… I know dad can't have a baby, but aren't we good enough?"

"Sam," Olivia warned, "that's enough."

"Yeah, Sammy."

"Hannah, that's a three."

"Yeah, Nanner," Solomon smirked.

"Solo," Olivia warned, "that's a one."

"But, Mommer, I got a snake!" he defended as if it really mattered.

"Sam," Olivia exhaled, "your father was crying this morning?"

"Yeah… mom I haven't heard dad cry since White."

Olivia exhaled, put the car in park and shut off the ignition and turned to him, "Honey, now you listen to me, Son. You are more than enough and your brothers and sister are more than enough. You all make us so happy-"

"Then… why is another baby so important to dad? Why does he hurt so much?" Sam asked, "He comes home from the doctors and he's so angry… why?"

"Honey," Olivia whispered, "baby, I love you so much and so does your father. We love you all-"

"Yeah, Sammy," Solomon chimed in, "you're the bestest big bro."

Samuel Stabler couldn't hide the smile on his face to save his or anyone else's life. "Solo,"

"Wha'?" Solomon opened his box and chuckled, "Mommer says tell da truce."

"Truth," Sam laughed and reached out for his mother's arm again, "I love you, mom."

Olivia grinned, raised his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles, "I love you too, son. Don't worry about me and your father. We're fine."

Sam furrowed his brow and squeezed her hand, "Will you divorce?"

She turned immediately in the confines of her seat, "What? Sam-why on earth-where did you-who told… what is going on up here?" she asked and tapped his head, "Tell me now, young man."

"Just… I thought… well, you guys are upset again."

Olivia laughed softly, "Honey, your father and I are not upset… we're in an interesting spot. I'm a little frazzled right now and so is he… nothing we won't get through."

"Promise me?"

She grinned, "Promise to believe me?"

He smiled and rested his head against his window, exhaling and growing serious again "Will dad be okay… if there is no baby?"

"Sam?" Olivia tilted her head at him in curiosity, "Son, this isn't-"

"My place… I know," he whispered, "but I also know that-"

"Mommer," Solomon interjected, "where, Sac?"

Olivia's eyes darted to the same place where she'd picked up Sam for years. The bell had rung. Buses had passed and children had dispersed, save Isaac who was sitting on a step.

His pissed off stare was entirely his father.

"Sam, keep an ear out for the kids, okay?" Olivia said keeping her eye on Isaac as she slipped out of the car.

She could see his piercing blue eyes were full of tears even before she started her path across the grass. She could feel his anger, and the only thing she wanted more than to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be okay, was for Elliot to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be okay.

"Olivia?"

Before she could reach her son a familiar voice cut her off, "Alex," Olivia smiled and embraced her tightly, "hey, how are you?"

"Good… better than him," she said pointing at Isaac who's tie had been pulled loose, his shirt pulled out of his slacks, his shoe lace untied. Hair a mess. Tears streaming.

"He looks like someone just pulled him out of a washing machine," Olivia frowned, "what happened?"

"Pissed off."

"That's apparent."

She laughed softly and rubbed Olivia's shoulder, "He's a little irritated at the classroom demographics and to tell you the truth, so am I."

Olivia furrowed her brows, "What?"

"I have 18 boys, and two girls…. and he's not sitting by either one of them."

Olivia bowed her head and laughed, "He's got this weird theory that you come to school and you fall in love."

"Who lied to him?" Alex chuckled, "It's a little more than that, apparently… he's having a little trouble with some stuff, his alphabet and numbers which is odd considering you and I both know he knows them forward and back."

Olivia pursed her lips, "First day jitters?"

"For you or for him?" Alex asked softly, "you look terrible."

"Thank you… Casey back yet?"

"Yeah… we should be so lucky to hit Hawaii, huh?"

Olivia smirked, "She'll be lobster red with her complexion."

"You look like… you and Elliot had a fight. Want to talk?"

Olivia exhaled, "No, I think….I know we'll be fine. I should get to Isaac, and um… if you and Casey are available, coffee on Thursday?"

Alex grinned, "Sure, see ya then."

"Thank you," She smiled and slowly made her way to her son. "You," she said softly and sat next to him, "look like a very upset kindergartner."

He ground his teeth, flared his nostrils and fisted a wad of hair in his hand as he continued to stare at nothing, "School is stupid, mom."

She exhaled, wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, "It was only your first day, honey."

"So… still stupid."

"Baby," she whispered and stroked his long hair, "what happened, tell me, huh?"

"Only two girls, mom. How am I supposed to get a _Crystal_ if there's only two girls in there and none of them is as good as Crystal?"

"Honey," Olivia whispered, surprised at his confession, "baby… do you _like_ Crystal?"

"Mom!" Isaac groaned, "That's not cool!"

"Why?" she teased, "Tell me."

"Mom! Stop!"

She laughed and caressed his face, "You okay here, baby?"

He exhaled, pulled her tighter, "Jordan say's I'm stupid… am I stupid, mom?"

"Whose Jordan?"

"My partner… he's weird, he picks his nose and wipes in on things."

Olivia frowned, "That's pretty gross… why did he call you stupid?"

" 'Cause… well…. Mom, school is boring. What do I need an alphabet for? I didn't say my alphabet so he stuck his tongue at me and called me stupid."

"Sam-"

"I'm Isaac, mom," he smirked, "I'm Isaac, and I'm good looking."

She grinned, bent her neck and kissed him on his cheek, "I know. Why don't you want to say your alphabet? You know it by heart."

" 'Cause," Isaac exhaled, "I don't like all the people mom and I'm hot," he said pulling at his tie again, "and," he suddenly began to cry, "I want to go home now, mom."

She furrowed her brow, "Baby, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" He snapped and stood, jerking himself out of her arms and stomping to the car, pulling at his tie with both hands in anger and frustration letting out a deep growl until to Olivia's horror he pulled too hard on the wrong lead.

Such his father.

He gasped for air, stopping immediately to try and undue to the mess. She sprinted to him, kneeling quickly in front of his red face. His blond hair tangled from too much play on the recess field. He gasped.

"Stop moving!" Olivia scolded and within seconds had the knot loose as he fell into her embrace and cried.

"Baby," she soothed him, "you're okay. Just pulled the wrong one, was all."

"Mommy," he cried and bunched her shirt. "I don't like school, it's stupid and it's boring and it's small and it scares me and I want to go home and go to sleep."

She exhaled, picked him up and made her way to the car. "Its okay honey, it'll be better tomorrow."

"Don't want to go tomorrow," he muttered.

_Yes!_

"Honey," Olivia soothed him, "it'll be okay. I promise."

He exhaled against her skin and gave her the very thing she wanted from him that morning.

A kiss.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He'd gotten that truck he always wanted. That deep blue Chevy truck with a bench seat, no cab extension. He'd surprised her when he picked it out. It looked more like something a vato would drive. Not necessarily lowered but not exactly stock suspension, either. Doors without handles, dark tint. It was completely not what she'd expected him to pick out. Not to mention it was ten years old. She'd expected that he'd ask for a brand new gas-whore and she wasn't sure how she felt about the truck the day he brought it home.

Well, until he made love to her on the bench seat, with the door open in broad day light.

He'd gotten it a year ago and apparently it's been parked in their driveway for at least the time since she's called him last. Which only adds salt to her wound as she shuts the car off.

He's been home all day and hasn't picked up his cell phone to talk to her. So she could tell him she was sorry.

"Daddy home!" Hannah squealed from the back seat, "Quick mommy, you fix hard words."

"Honey-" Olivia looked in the review mirror and smiled softly at her daughter who excitedly held a small box in her hand.

"Uh oh," Solomon piped in softly. "Bushted."

Olivia's eyes darted to her youngest son still sitting in his booster seat, "What's uh oh?" Olivia asked in dread.

Hannah looked over into her brother's box, "Ooh, bushted."

"Shut up!" Solomon snapped and exhaled looking around him and then his box.

"Honey," Olivia asked again, her voice more concerned.

Sam turned his ear to the back of the SUV, "Solo? You okay, bro?"

"Bushted."

"Busted?" Sam furrowed his brow.

"Honey," Olivia unbuckled her belt and turned to face her son, "What- oh no!" she groaned, "baby, why'd you open the box?"

Sadly, Solomon chewed him bottom lip before sticking it out, "Wanna'ed to see, him."

Olivia's eyes darted around the car frantically, "Solomon. John. Isaiah. Stabler," she groaned, "Are you telling me that your snake is loose in this car?"

His thin brows shot up, "My snake go bye bye, Mommy." 

"Ah, man!" Isaac groaned, "is it gonna bite us?" he asked pulling his feet up into his seat.

"No," Olivia told him through a laugh, "he's an itty bitty and he doesn't bite. Take a chill pill son."

"Then will it at least eat sister?" Isaac asked looking around the floor board.

"Shut up!" Hannah yelled, "Stupid butt nugget!"

"Hannah," Olivia exhaled, "that's your time out."

"Ah!" Hannah groaned and tossed her head back, "Bushted."

"Alright guys," Olivia groaned, "Everyone out through my door, let's go, don't let that thing out either," she told them and promptly helped Sam out keeping watch for a certain snake to make its way out as well.

If she had to touch it, Solomon would never know a life out side of time out. Never.

"Help your sister, please?" she told Sam who was quickly followed by Hannah, her own box in her hand.

"Your in time out pumpkin," Olivia reminded as she sat Hannah on the ground to follow her brother.

"Owie!" Hannah yelped and instantly pulled her wrist back, "Mommy, that hurted me."

Olivia knelt low, careful to keep an eye on the exit of the vehicle, "Your hand hurt you again?"

"Right here, mommy," she frowned and produced a pouted lip.

Olivia smiled, brought her daughter's once broken wrist to her lips and kissed it softly, "All better now?"

"Yeah," she grinned.

Sam took in a deep breath. He still at times, feels guilty when Hannah complains about her wrist. Which is becoming more and more often, but as he takes gentle hold of Hannah's hand and kisses her temple softly, Olivia knows that those two will always make it. Always.

"Anyone ever tell you how cute you sound?" Sam asked as he led her to the house. She was fearless in the face of time outs. Serving them stoically and going about her business as they were simply a part of her daily routine and for Hannah Stabler… they were.

She was after all, entirely her mother.

"All the time brother," she squealed, "you tellded me all the time."

Olivia grinned and helped Solomon down, "No tears honey, we'll find him."

"I sowry," he sniffled and looked up at her with sad blue eyes. Elliot's eyes. She wanted to get into the house to apologize. To tell him she messed up and should have never consulted a lawyer without him.

She stroked his hair softly, "I know you are, and it's okay. We're gonna find him. Quick, go inside and put his food away and I'll have him back in no time."

"Promise?"

"I was a cop, remember?" she smiled and kissed his forehead, "I'm good at finding things that don't want to be found."

He smiled and scooted off of the seat and onto the ground, racing to the house, "Daddy!"

"And you young man," Olivia whispered and helped Isaac onto the seat as she tied his shoe, "are the smartest little boy I've ever seen in all my days."

He grinned through tears, "Lot's of days mommy?"

She laughed, "Hey! I'm not a day over twenty."

He furrowed his brow, "That's old."

Her mouth fell open, "Nice, Son. Thanks."

"Mom?"

"Yeah, honey?" she whispered still keeping her focus split between child and snake.

"I don't like school… can I stay home with you?"

_Yes. Absolutely. Yep. Sure can. We can start tomorrow. _

"No, honey," she forced out softly and kissed his forehead, "you can't. All big boys go to school so they can get these super big brains and take over the world like Bill Gates," she joked, "you're gonna take over the world and to do that… you've got to know your alphabet… have to say it too."

He exhaled, "Don't wanna."

She wiped gently at his tears, "You'll love it. I promise."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Here snaky-snaky-snaky," Olivia sung in irritation and exhaustion, "where did you go you slimy piece of leather?"

She exhaled, groaned and flipped open the glove box only to see the owners manual of the SUV and a bag of skittles she'd confiscated from Solomon when he decided to pelt Isaac with them to cure his boredom of being stuck in traffic last week.

"Come on!" she slammed the glove box shut and groaned, "I've been looking for you for an hour! I'd like to go inside my house!" she snapped in frustration as she stood outside of the vehicle, door open as she leaned down to peer under the seat. She tossed around a back pack she'd used to carry various items for the kids when they went out only to stare down at the bag Elliot had left in her office.

The gift that did not make sense.

She groaned, slammed the door and opened the back seat door, "Don't think I won't buy another one of you!" she hissed, looking under the seat, "we're on like the eleventh gold fish and they haven't caught on! You're replaceable you scaly slime bag!"

She peered under the back seat to see nothing except the shoe of Solomon's she'd been looking for for the past three weeks. Not to mention Hannah's collection of hair ties, she seems to be stashing under the seat. "It's a regular little treasure trove under here," she grumbled and raised her voice in frustration, "everything except a damn snake!"

"You know what?" Olivia said into the car, "You listen to me, you thorn in my flesh, if you ever want to see another mouse again, you'd better show yourself." she said as if this snake, this reptilian creature would actually listen to her and simply slither out into plain view for the sole purpose of soothing her.

She let out an irritated growl and slapped the seat, "Fine! You know what? I hope you slithered into the engine and I hope when it starts tomorrow it cuts you up into billions of little pieces you slimy sonofa-"

"Temper temper."

She stilled immediately. Her eyes closed shut at the sound of his voice.

"And they say I'm the one who can't control it," he teased softly, tried to mask the hurt in his voice but one thing they've learned about one another over the years as partners and lovers, no matter what mask they put on. The other always knows what beneath it. Always.

"I uh…"

She could here him grinding the toe of his shoe into the newly laid asphalt of their driveway. Asphalt to cover shed blood that is committed to memory.

"El-"

"Solomon cried himself to sleep on the couch about thirty minutes ago… Isaac said he lost his snake already."

She nodded softly, still not turning around to face him, "Yeah… he uh…. opened the box on the way home," she said and fingered the stain on the car seat. Had to be cherry juice. Could have been strawberry, though.

"Sam said… you were looking for it."

"I think… maybe he got out and I didn't see. I've searched the whole car. He's gone," she exhaled, "I messed up-"

"Just a snake, Liv… they're sneaky-"

"No," she shook her head and turned slowly, "I mean… I messed up by not telling you about the attorney. I'm sorry."

He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at her. She'd finally understood how to apologize without ruining it by offering an explanation. She finally was able to admit when she messed up and offer an apology. He took a step closer to her, touched her face softly, "I'm sorry I can't have a baby with you Liv… I am. I'm so sorry I can't give you that."

"No," she shook her head, "No, Elliot," she whispered and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, "honey, that's not. I don't care how we bring another one into the family, I just… I want another one and adoption doesn't mean we'll love him any less than if you got me pregnant. It doesn't, look at Sam. That little boy is so much you that it's scary."

Elliot smiled softly, "I came home today-"

She pulled back, anger momentarily flashing through her eyes before she took a breath and leaned back on his shoulder, "You didn't answer your phone… I know you're upset with me. I'm so sorry. I called you five or six times to apologize and you didn't pick up," she pulled back and looked at him, "why did you ignore me?"

"My cell phone battery is dead, Liv," he smiled, "It's dead, it went out when I was on the phone with Robert… it's been charging."

She exhaled, leaned her back against the seat and frame of the car, "I thought… you were gonna push me away again."

"I was angry, yes," he confessed and took her hands, placing them at his hips, relieved when he felt the pressure of her fingertips grip him. Telling him that she wanted that touch as much as he did. "I was angry, and I needed some time to think and mull and yes, pout," he smirked, "but… I'm not pushing you away, Liv. We're past that. We'll talk this through, we'll get it hashed out."

She smirked, "What has Vivian done to us?"

"Made us stronger," he smiled and kissed her mouth, "I just want one last test and then… if it's not the way we want it… we'll talk to the attorney."

Her entire body smiled against him, "Really?"

He licked his lips, nodded, "Really."

She took a deep breath, looked up at him, her eyes timid, "You forgive me, Elliot?"

He leaned closer, grazed his lips softly against hers, "The moment I met you."

She laughed, "You saying I messed up since day one?"

He didn't laugh, but kissed her again, "I'm saying, I knew the day I met you, that I'd forgive you for anything. Just to be near you again."

"Anything?" she whispered up at him, slightly taken back. _Anything_.

"Anything," he nodded and kissed her lips again, "you have no idea, you can't possibly have any idea how I feel when we're fighting."

"I'm sorry."

"I am too. I'm not innocent in this, I was harsh to you this morning. It was uncalled for. I'm sorry."

She smiled softly, kissed him again, "Elliot?"

"Hmmm?" he muttered kissing the column on her neck as she gently stepped up and wormed her way onto the back seat of the car.

"You really meant anything?" she whispered as he crawled over her and nestled between her thighs. Her hand reaching for something nearby.

"Anything," he agreed, nipping at her lip.

She smiled against him, "I opened your present today."

He grinned, "They fit?"

"You're not mad?" she asked with furrowed brows.

"Nope… go out with me tonight, Liv. I still want to take you out."

She smiled wide and held up the shoe to him, "I have to say you picked the strappiest pair of shoes in the store didn't you?"

"Do they fit?" he asked, rubbing into her gently.

She smiled softly and shook her head, "I didn't try them on. I'm kind of confused as to where we're going. Our nights are usually low key, the way we like'em."

He chuckled, "That's how_ I_ like them, Liv… tonight is for you."

She traced his lips with her fingertips, "You're still taking me out after what I did? You still want to take me out?"

He nodded, "I do. You're forgiven. It's over, but-"

"But?"

He looked down at her, grazed her lips again with his own, "How long have you been seeing an attorney?"

She exhaled softly, "Elliot… I set up the appointment a month ago, before we talked. I'm sorry. I didn't- I wasn't…. I'm sorry."

He smiled, "It's okay… I'd kind of like to know."

She ran her hand through his hair surprised that neither of the four children had come outside to see what mom and dad were up to, "I just… I don't want you to think that you asked me for another test and I immediately went to see an adoption attorney… we'd agreed that your last test was the last one, and I just wanted to see, how long it would take. I wanted to know before I even brought it up to you… I'm scared too, Elliot, I am. And I want another baby, I do. I want to add to our family and I want to be stressed out over our budget 'cause we need to re-model the house and I want to be up all hours of the night with a fussy baby and I want to change poopie diapers and spit up and… I want to do all of that with you. I don't care if we make the little guy our self or if we save him from the system. I just… I'm selfish and… I want."

He smiled softly, "I want too, Liv. I do, but please…. one more test, and then the attorney. Just one more, I promise it'll be the last one and I promi-"

"Shhh," she covered his lips, "we'll do the test."

He let his head fall to her shoulder and exhaled deeply, his breath against her bringing her comfort before arousal, "So," he smiled and raised up to look at her again, "you'll go out with me tonight?"

She smiled, "Does it involve these incredible shoes?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm absolutely going to have to call a sitter."

He laughed, "Taken care of… you should go get ready."

She chuckled, pulled her leg high on his hip, "I have to find a snake."

He groaned as she arched into him, "Liv… it's not in my pants."

"Sure it is," she laughed and kissed his forehead, "but, if he wants to hibernate right now, it's okay. Help me find the one that's loose in the car."

"Wait," he stilled over her, "maybe, maybe the snake you're looking for is in my pants."

She laughed harder, "Well… he'll have to camp out there 'cause I've got one loose in this car and it needs to be found and preferably not while I'm going seventy on the freeway and it's crawling up my leg."

"What about zero on the seat?" he whispered and pressed his erection into her, "And crawling up your leg?"

"Elliot," she smiled at the sensation and kissed him, "come on, you're the one that has had a snake before, you know how to handle them and your son wants to be as cool as his daddy… help me find him or were gonna be replacing him like we do that gold fish."

He pulled her up, opened the front door and started to search as she crawled over the seats like a teenager to the driver's side, opened the door and took up her position of searching across from her husband.

"Sam's figured it out, you know?" Elliot grinned, opening up the glove box and pursing his lips in satisfaction of the skittle find.

"Figured what out?" she asked carefully sliding her hand under the seat, not sure what she would do if she actually came into contact with the beast.

"That we've been replacing the gold fish," he said popping a few candies before re-depositing them.

She shot up, hit her head on the steering wheel and groaned, rubbing it, "How?" she asked with furrowed brows, "Crap, that hurt."

"You okay?" he asked, chewing on a skittle before gently pulling the carpeting back to access the paneling of the vehicle, "yeah… how does he know?"

"Apparently, that last gold fish wasn't a gold fish it was an-"

"Oscar," she groaned, "that's all they had, I didn't think Isaac would notice."

"He doesn't," Elliot laughed, "but he asked Sam why it shrunk."

"Did Sam tell him?"

"Na, but he asked me a few days a- BINGO!" Elliot grinned, gnawing on his bottom lip as he removed a piece of paneling, "Wow, Liv, that's a beautiful snake," he said in all seriousness.

She arched her brow, "You're disgusting."

"Come and get him," Elliot said.

"Yeah, right. Your son. Your snake," she shook her head.

"Liv… Solo is still young, we're both gonna have to teach him how to handle it-"

"He did pretty well at the pet shop-"

"Olivia Stabler!" Elliot raised his brow, "You get that cute butt of your over here and get this snake before it slithers out of here and I have to hunt for it again."

She exhaled, closed the door and slowly walked to the other side, "Fine. What?" she muttered.

He smiled, "He's harmless, Liv, just reach in and grab him."

Sneakily, she made her way to his crotch and grabbed him gently, "Like this?"

He froze, gasping for air and trying to hide his smile, "Liv… wrong snake."

"Oops," she whispered and kissed his mouth, before turning to stare at the reptile. "Not touching it."

"Yes you are."

"Uh, no."

"That's a one," Elliot said playfully.

She arched her brow, "Don't even go there."

"Get him, come on. I got a surprise for you in the house. Hurry up."

She kneeled low, reached just under the glove compartment and slowly, as if the snake were a Cobra intent on spewing venom into her flesh, reached for the snake.

"Take him by his tail, the head is too strong. Let him coil around you," Elliot said softly and watched as Olivia hesitantly did what he told her until she was standing straight, with a King Snake coiled securely around her wrist, "See, Liv? He likes you?"

She laughed nervously, "Yeah, whatever, take this thing."

"Nope… give it to Solomon he's got the cage set up for him."

Olivia smiled softly, and looked up at him, "You helped them set everything up?" she asked keeping her arm rigid and straight in front of her body as he closed the door.

"Yeah… what did you think I was doing?"

She shrugged, "I thought… I dunno."

"Liv-"

"I thought you were upset. I thought… I don't know, that you were ignoring me. Making me suffer."

He smiled at her and kissed her temple, "I was upset, but I got over that around two… had to take care of some stuff. And may I ask," he smiled and rested his hand against the small of her back, "who in the world suggested an amphibious frog for Hannah? Why do my children like these odd creatures?"

Olivia chuckled as Elliot walked with her, his hand around her waist before his other hand moved to bring in her rigid one, "Keep him close or you'll make him nervous and if he's just eaten he'll regurgitate."

She stopped immediately, "Get. This. Thing. Off of me. Now."

He laughed, pulled her close again and insured the snake was close to their bodies, "Oh, Olivia is scared of a wee little snake…you're doing fine, baby… why the frog?"

"She wanted a bird."

"Why _not_ a bird? You can hold a bird."

"Yep, They also crap every ten minutes," Olivia smiled and chuckled as the snakes tongue tapped her flesh. Seeking. Investigating.

"So… she picked a _frog_?" he furrowed his brow.

"I think she was growing impatient, she wanted a hamster, but I thought Solo might try to feed it to this thing," she said motioning to the small snake, "and then she wanted the kitty but Zeus and Moses would eat it. Fish is already done, I was running out of options."

"Why not a puppy?"

" "Cause we have two huge ones as it is."

Elliot grinned, kissed her temple, "She like the frog?"

"Yeah, I think so…. but she wants to be like the boys. The guy put it in a baggie with air and water, and she demanded it be put in a box like Solo's snake was."

Elliot exhaled and rubbed small circles on the curve of her back, "I love you, Liv," he said as they made their way up the stairs to their home.

She grinned, "I know… you were crazy enough to marry me twice… that says something Stabler." He laughed, cupped her face and kissed her softly until she pulled away sharply in horror, "Did you see that?" she shrieked and pointed to the snake with her free hand.

"What?"

"The little fart knocker just tried to tongue my neck!"

Elliot laughed, "Fart knocker? That's a one, Liv. Think of your words."

She narrowed her eyes playfully and looked down at the snake, "We're parents, El."

He lowered his hand, caressed her backside, "I know… it's amazing."

She grinned, "I never thought I'd be holding a snake… for my youngest son… for a son at all," she confessed and looked down at the coiled creature, "How odd is this?"

He kissed her temple, "It's not odd… it's perfect."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The house was uncharacteristically quiet save a little boy crying on the couch, "Where is everyone?" Olivia asked softly.

"Isaac clunked out. He's upset. Hannah dropped her frog in the fish bowl and is down for a nap. Sam is talking to Crystal on the phone, and he," Elliot exhaled pointing to Solomon who was sniffling and trying to hold in his tears as he laid on the couch, "really misses his snake."

She rolled her eyes and smiled, "He had if for an hour. Tops."

He chuckled and took a breath, "Hey, Solomon," Elliot whispered and kneeled painfully in front of his son.

Sadly, and with the best pouted lip and sad eyes he could offer, "My snake, daddy?"

Elliot exhaled sadly and opened his palms to his boy, "I'm sorry, Son. I didn't find him." Solomon's face crumbled and his little chest began to heave as he used his fist to rub his eyes. Elliot lowered his hands and smiled, "But your Mommer did," he whispered as Olivia kneeled low, a perfect King snake specimen coiled tight on her wrist.

Solomon's face made the sun appear dark, "Mommer!" he called out in sheer glee, "Mommer finded my snake!"

Olivia grinned, "Hold out your hand, son."

He did so and kicked his feet in appreciation that his mother had saved the day again. Because, no matter what you told Solomon, he was convinced that his mother's sole reason for being was him and him alone. "Start with the tail," she whispered as if she didn't just learn this information five minutes ago. As if she was perfectly content holding the creature in her hand.

Solomon tried to straighten the snake's head, "No, honey," Olivia corrected softly, "his head is too strong, start at his tail and he'll wrap onto you, just like at the store."

Solomon watched in complete bliss as his snake coiled safely around him, Olivia's lips on his forehead, "Happy?"

He grinned up at her, " t'ank you, Mommer."

"Welcome, Solo… put him in his cage and think of a name, okay?"

He smiled, kissed her cheek and made his way to their room, "Nana, I gonna scare you!"

She looked at Elliot who struggled to get up from his kneeling position, "Want some help?" she whispered and decided she'd leave out the fact that had he had his cane he'd be able to get up easier.

"Uh… well," he stood halfway, his knee popping, "yeah."

She moved quickly, helped him stand erect and lean against the couch, "Thanks," he said with a shy smile, "I'm getting old."

She looked passed him, down the hall at the soft light flooding out from Hannah and Solomon's room and while she wanted to go check on them, wanted to separate them, it suddenly hit her what just happened. "Elliot," Olivia said softly when he went to move.

"Hmm?"

She framed his face, "I know what you just did," she whispered and grazed his lips with hers, "thank you," she breathed and kissed him tenderly, letting her tongue explore and encourage him. To thank him. She had hurt him and he had forgiven her by making her into a hero to their son.


	4. Dinner and a Mint

Silver Lining

Chapter 4: Dinner and a Mint

She rocked the chair softly, the same rocking chair Elliot had purchased her when Isaac was born, the same rocking chair she had almost considered moving from Hannah and Solomon's room because Isaac pitched a fit that she rocked Hannah in the mornings and Solomon at night but he was not being rocked, anymore. She'd tried to explain to him that he was a big boy, much too heavy for her to transport from the nursery to the boys' room if he fell asleep in her lap.

Isaac couldn't care less how big he was.

The boy wanted his mother to rock him just like she rocked his younger brother and sister and so, to prove to her his determination, at the young age of three and a half, he'd push and pull and grunt and kick and tug at the rocker, taking it from Hannah and Solomon's room, and negotiating the terrain of the home to get the rocker into his room.

Nightly.

It wasn't a five minute deal, either. No, Isaac was his father. Determined and thick headed. No amount of time-outs or scolding or loss of free time ever deterred him from his mission.

Maybe he had a little bit of his mother in him, too.

And so, after weeks of the toddler being placed on lock down, Elliot had come home with a gift for Olivia. A _fixer-upper_ of a rocking chair he called it. She called it an abomination. She wasn't sure what to do with it until Elliot suggested taking it down to the wood and re-doing it so it was specifically Isaac's.

A wood varnish so dark it was black, and to Elliot's surprise, she'd taken a wood engraver and etched in _Isaac's _on the head of the chair and painted the deep grooves of his name in a matte silver so that no one ever had any doubt as to whose chair it was. Elliot and Olivia had slipped into the room as the boys and their side-kicks slept. They'd placed the chair near the window just as it had been in the nursery where she'd held him as an infant, fed him from her breast and rocked him in her arms.

And it's never been moved from that spot.

"It goes down now, Mom?" he whispered and held out his arm, watching as the sun slowly started to retire for the night, igniting a streak of orange and purple in the sky.

"Yeah, it's about that time," she smiled and ran her hand through his hair before kissing him gently. Tradition number two had been this small moment in the day where she rocked Isaac softly in his chair, watching the setting sun and talking about nothing and everything. Super heroes and villains. Smiles and sniffles.

"Are you and daddy leaving tonight?" he asked playing with the cover of a Doctor Suess book he had on his lap.

"Yeah," she nodded softly and squeezed him in her arms. "Will you miss me?"

He giggled, "Yeah. Daddy get's all my time with you. He doesn't share so good."

She laughed against him, the stray strands of freshly washed hair gently tickling her chin, "Me and Daddy need some alone time."

"Cause we're bad?" he asked softly, his pudgy five-year-old belly making itself known.

"Bad?" she whispered and continued to rock him, "No, not bad, honey. You're amazing. You're wonderful and I love you so much."

"I get a lot of time-outs. More than Hannah and she's one bad little girl."

She nuzzled his ear softly with the tip of his nose, "I think you might be giving her a run for her money… its okay. You're learning. Neither of you are bad. You're my babies, my beautiful, perfect babies."

He sniffled, the first indication that he was starting to cry before his belly began to heave through his Spider-Man pajamas, "I got time out at school today… a lot of times," he confessed and suddenly slammed the cover of the book shut. "School is stupid, mom."

Determined not to show him that his sudden un-ease with school made her both nervous and incredibly happy, nervous because it seemed uncharacteristic and happy because he wanted to be with her; she continued to rock him softly and rub his belly in small circles, "What did you get time outs for?"

He took a deep breath, "'Cause, stupid jerk-wad-Jordan wiped a big boogie on me and I pushed him down and gave him one of my own boogies… it was more bigger."

"Isaac-Reagan," she groaned, "What have I told you about your language? And since when is it okay to wipe boogies on someone?"

He exhaled, "But mom," he whined, "It was _more bigger_."

"Not okay," she told him firmly but followed closely with a kiss. "It's that kind of stuff that gets you locked up in time out."

" S'not good," he whispered.

"Did Jordan get a time out?"

"Yeah," he shook his head, "Aunt Alex… she don't let no one get away with nothin'," he said sadly, "she says, I do the crime, I do the time… no mercy."

Olivia grinned, "Good."

"Mom?"

"That's me," she whispered as the purple streaks across the sky turned into air-brushed black, telling her that their time alone was coming to an end.

"I don't like school. Can I be home with you like Hannah and Solo?"

"Don't you want to be a big boy like, Sam?"

"No," he shook his head, "Sammy can be a big boy. I wanna stay with you."

_Yeah baby!_

"Tell me why you don't like school."

"Dunno," he whispered and began to cry. Long, laborious cries that left him struggling for air even after she'd turned him around on her lap and held him close to her to try and sooth him. His heart beat pulsing far too rapidly against her chest.

"Shhhh," she soothed him, "shhh, you're okay. Tell me three things you like about school…. number one?"

He sobbed against her neck, holding tight to her as his tears caressed her skin, "I can play on a tricycle."

"Wow!" she purposely embellished her surprise, "how cool is that? I've never ridden a tricycle."

"S'cool."

"Number two reason why you like school?"

He pulled back, sitting on her lap as his knees bent so he could look at her. He smiled as she wiped her thumbs over his tears, "I get snacks and I get to draw and color and paint."

She grinned, "So… I shouldn't worry about you using any more color crayons on the walls?"

He smiled sheepishly, "That's a whole lot of time outs… long ones."

She laughed. Fact of the matter was, she liked the scribble he put on their wall. Liked it enough to schalak the frantic blue and green design that would later encourage Hannah and Solomon to place their own designs next to it. She used a whole lot of schalack that year. "One more reason you like school."

He crinkled his nose, "Got nothin'."

She tickled his belly, "You got one more in there somewhere. Tell me."

He furrowed his brow in thought and looked up at the ceiling for several seconds before looking back at her, "Mom… I get to be with my Auntie!"

She grinned showing her teeth as he offered his own toothy grin and sat back in her lap so he could watch the final moments of their sunset. "Honey… can you give me the reasons you don't like school?"

He exhaled, surprised her when his little hand tightened over her slender fingers and he began to sniffle again, "I don't like it!" he yelled and tried to leave her lap.

She held him firmly, soothed him quickly with her voice as she continued to rock him, "Do you know how much I love you?"

He used his fists to rub his eyes as he sniffled and hiccupped, "As far as the east is from the west."

"And how much is that?" she whispered and felt his cheek rise in a grin against her cheek.

He raised his hands into the air and in spite of his state of unrest announced happily, "To infinity and beyond!"

She grinned, "Yeah, Buzz has nothing on you, honey."

"Nothin'," he repeated sadly. His ability to be happy and sad simultaneously caused her to wonder just who in the world he got that from. And yet she knew.

"Why don't you like school? You've got to tell me or the sun will disappear and we won't be able to draw in it tonight."

He exhaled as her hands covered his chest, his tears falling on the back of one, riding the ridges of her knuckles it's moisture seeping under her wedding ring, "It's super small," he began to breath rapidly as he covered her hands with his, "I don't like Jordan, not one bit and I lost my lunch today and my cubby smells bad and my letters don't look like our letters and my numbers don't look like our numbers and my name don't look like my name and my pencil is super hard to hold and Jordan makes fun of me a whole lot and I'm gonna nail him, Mom. I am. And school is super small and my playtime is just by the pole and the school is small and-"

"Hey," she squeezed him gently, "I asked for three and you're giving me a whole shopping list."

He sniffled and nodded his head rapidly, "Mommy, please. I don't like it there."

She exhaled, wanted nothing more than to tell him he didn't have to go, "Is you're Aunt Alex good to you? Is she fair?"

"Yeah," he whispered, "Aunt Alex is like you."

"How do you mean?"

"If I do bad and Sammy does bad we both get busted… If I do bad and Jordan does bad, we both get busted."

"Okay… well, I'm sorry… you've got to go back."

He sniffled, tried so hard to keep his tears in but she still felt them. Right now he wasn't a big boy, right now he wasn't a man. He was her baby and from the racing of his heart against her palm, he was scared of something. Right now he was her baby and she couldn't be more willing to love on him, to adore him and to hold him, "Hey," she whispered as the last curve of the sun set leaving only streaks of light and color in the sky, "let's forget about Dr. Suess, tonight and draw, huh?"

He sniffled, "Yeah… I'll be the painter and you can be my assistant."

She grinned, kissed the back of his head and held his wrist, "Can you show me your brush?"

He extended his index and middle finger as she held his wrist to the darkening sky, "I got it," he whispered.

"You find anything, yet?" she asked as they both analyzed the shapes in the sky. Her neck bent awkwardly to stay close to his chubby cheek and look up through the window at the same time.

Long seconds past as he closed one eye and traced the lines of the sky with his 'paint brush', "I got a doggie right here, Mom." he whispered and traced the patterns of the sky, "He's not cool like Zeus, but he's a doggie."

She leaned her cheek against his and peered up at the sky, "Yeah," she whispered following his fingers with her eyes, "I see it."

Moments passed in silence as he 'painted' against the sky until his arm grew tired, his body leaned back against hers and sleepiness began to take it's toll, "Mom?" he yawned and curled up into a ball on her lap, his hand covering the tattoo on her side, "Where are you and Daddy going?"

Her brows arched as a blush crept over her neck, "I don't know. He's surprising me."

"Oh," he whispered, "I like surprises… who is coming over?"

Olivia exhaled over his blond hair, allowed her eyes to close in relaxation as she continued to rock him to sleep, "I thought you might like to see Addison tonight."

His eye lids closed as his eyes rolled into sleep, his smile lazy and small, "Yeah… I wanna see him."

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It never failed. Ever. Exactly thirty minutes after the sun set, or thereabouts, Elliot knew exactly where two of his family members would be ninety-eight percent of the time. A sexy wife, holding a sleeping son in a black-finished rocker he scored from an Estate sale. Okay, maybe Chloe helped him by seeing it one day and calling him to tell him about it to which he told her to purchase it and he'd pay her back. In the end he was the one to present it to Olivia so it didn't really matter who came upon it first. All that mattered was that he knew he would find her and Isaac asleep in that chair thirty minutes after the sun set. Or thereabouts.

Olivia had shocked him by embracing tradition. A separate one with each of her children that was shared only between her and that child. Hannah's early morning bonding sessions, Isaac's nightly conversations and while she hasn't exactly figured out something Solomon and her are able to do together, she and Sam have taken to Saturday morning walks, just the two of them.

She's sexy when she falls asleep with her glasses on, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, their son asleep in the comfort of her embrace. Her slender hands resting over his chubby belly as his pajama top rides further up his tummy. This has become Elliot's nightly routine as well, placing his cane in the corner of the room before carefully unfolding her fingers from his son and extracting him.

In exactly three steps, just as he places Isaac in the comfort of his bed she'll struggle to wake up. Too exhausted from long hours and juggling house hold chores and children's demands and she will say, in exactly, _three-two-one-_

"Elliot," she muttered from the chair, "baby, you need your cane."

He smiled to himself. _Perfect timing._

"Olivia," he whispered and leaned over the back of the chair, kissing her temple softly as she continued to sleep and wake at the same time, "you're so tired… maybe we should stay in, tonight."

"Nuh, uh," she murmured.

"Liv," he smiled and rubbed his palms down her shoulders and arms before lacing his hands over the tops of hers, "it's okay, lets-"

"Stabler," she laughed and opened her eyes, "I've got a really great pair of shoes to try out tonight and-" she arched her brow looking up at him. White collard shirt. Tie draped around his neck, "Wow," she grinned and stood up to assess him. Her mouth fell open, "Oh… really wow."

He chuckled and blushed, reached out to her and pulled her close to him, "We can stay in if you want to."

"No way," she grinned and tugged at his belt, "these pants really accent your rear-end. I'm going out with you just to show all the other women what they can't have."

He smiled down at her, rest his hand at the small of her back letting his thumb rest just under the cloth of her shirt, "The guys only wish they had a taste of what I have."

"Just a taste? They wouldn't want more?" she asked with a cocked brow.

He smiled, kissed her slowly on the mouth, "They'd die with just a taste… you have no idea what just a little bit of you can do to a man."

She grinned, lightly grazed his crotch with her fingertip, "I know what it does to you."

He laughed, spun her around so he held her from behind and walked her out of the room, "Elliot-"

"I know. I know," he groaned and snatched his cane before they left, "I forgot it."

She laughed, "Where are we going that you had to get all pretty for me?"

He kissed her neck softly, "I'm gonna finish getting the kids ready for the night. I need to go over Sam's homework… go get ready, there's a dress on the bed for you."

"A dress?"

He grinned, kissed her neck again, "Don't worry, Alex helped me pick it out."

She reached back, touched his cheek and smiled, "Will I like it?"

"I don't know… but I will."

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"Monkey pile on daddy!" Solomon yelled as he suddenly launched himself off of the couch and tumbled on his father, "Come on Nana, help me!" he shouted as Elliot laughed and playfully stretched out on the floor pretending to be suddenly held captive by a three-year old.

"Daddy bushted!" Hannah giggled and quickly slipped off of the couch forsaking The Lion King and piling on top of her brother and Elliot. "Daddy a gonner!" she grinned.

"Oh no!" Elliot feigned fear, "Help me, help! I'm being attacked."

"Can't get us daddy… I'a tickle monster!" Solomon growled and promptly began to tickle Elliot as Hannah joined and then suddenly both were taken by surprise when Elliot simply made his body ridged and produced a perfect push up hearing both children gasp in surprise.

"Hurt your back Daddy," Hannah told him through a grin.

Elliot lowered himself, laughed and pushed himself up again, "Oh, you two are too light to hurt me," he told them but when his elbows began to crack as he lowered himself both children laughed.

"Mama gonna put you in time out," Solomon scolded, "you not 'posed to do hard tings wid'out a helper daddy."

Elliot chuckled deeply and turned under both of his children so they piled on his torso facing him, "You two are so amazing… have I told you that?"

"Yeah," Hannah grinned, "I amazing… Solo not so amazing."

Elliot's eyes went wide, "Apologize to your brother young lady."

"Nuh, huh."

"Hannah-"

"Nuh huh."

"Hannah Elizabeth-"

"Uh oh," Solomon looked to his sister with wide blue eyes, arched brows, "Daddy useded bowf of ur names… bushted."

She grinned at her brother, "I bushted, but ur not amazing."

"Hannah Elizabeth Oli-"

"Okay!" she raised her palms to her father's chest, "Okay, I sowry daddy. I sowry."

"I'm not the one you owe an apology to… tell him you're sorry."

Her nostrils flared as she slowly looked to Solomon, she pursed her lips in thought, weighing the consequences. She sized up her brother and looked back to her father, "You no tellded mommy I say hard words and I no tellded mommy you do hard things without a helper."

Elliot's mouth fell into a perfect 'O'. Bribed by his wife this morning and blackmailed by his daughter this evening, "Say. Sorry. Now."

Hannah smirked, "Sorry. Now."

"Hannah," Elliot's voice grew firmer with his only daughter. There was nothing more difficult than trying to be firm with Hannah when all he wanted to do was gather her into his arms and love on her and tell her she could say, do or have anything she ever wanted, "Be a big girl and apologize."

"No," she shook her head, "Nope. Nuh uh-"

"That's a one little girl," Olivia suddenly chimed in from the hallway holding the back of a black dress closed with her hand.

Hannah met Olivia's stern eyes with her playful ones and simply smiled as if her mother should be proud that she could stand up to her father. That her father couldn't make her melt the same way he could make Olivia melt. Fold. "I'a amazing girl, mommy."

"That's true," Olivia confirmed, "but that's also a two… Solomon help your daddy up. Mommer needs help."

"Mom," Sam's voice suddenly cut through the banter and discipline. It was pained, cracking, struggling to maintain a steady sound, "Mom?"

Olivia turned quickly as the two smallest Stablers helped their father up into a sitting position, Hannah handing him his tie that was still not secured around his neck. His shirt now a little wrinkled and pulled out of his waist band. She didn't care. It was the sign of a playful father, of her adoring husband. She'd take that over a perfect shirt any day of the week.

Sam held the cordless phone at his side, his face crinkled in a mess of confusion and pain, "Baby?" Olivia said in a voice so coated in concern all conversation stopped and Elliot carefully stood to his feet.

Hannah, ever the sneaky Stabler calmly turned to her brother once she thought Olivia's attention was diverted and stuck her tongue at him.

"That's a three," Olivia told her without so much as having to look at her to know that she'd committed a misdemeanor offense within the home, "Warning."

Elliot moved quickly to help Olivia with her zipper as she flicked her much longer hair to the side and made her way to Sam, "What's wrong, honey?"

He exhaled, his face crumbling into misery before he reached out and fell into his mother's arms, "Mom," he sniffled "Crystal is going to have surgery."

She exhaled in relief. He'd been doing so well, but occasionally, on days when they least expect it a nightmare will strike and while he and Elliot have become close, Olivia knows that when it comes to matters of Daddy Wilson, she will always be the one he runs to.

Birds of a feather.

"She'll be fine, honey. She will."

"She doesn't need one, mom. She's fine the way she is. Why won't she believe me?"

Olivia pulled back and cupped his face. How he'd developed Elliot's jaw line was beyond her but he reminded her of her husband every day, "Sam, you need to support her. Some surgeries are required-"

"But this one isn't!" he snapped and pulled his face from her hands, "Mom," he furrowed his brows, "she doesn't need it. Not like dad needed his surgeries to walk or to live or to fix his head or-"

"Sam," Olivia exhaled and brushed her hand over his hair, "if you really love her and you really want to be a good friend to her then you need to support her even if you don't think she needs it."

"But mom," he pleaded with her, "she… she…never mind."

"Sam," she pulled him back and kissed the top of his head, "I've made decisions your father hasn't agreed with but he stood by me and supported me and he loved me… it makes a difference."

He smacked his lips and nodded, "Can I visit her in the hospital, mom? She said she's gonna have to be there cause they are going to draw graphs and stuff."

Olivia furrowed her brow in confusion then realization settled, "You mean, they're doing skin graphs?"

"I think so," he exhaled, "I don't know. She said they have to take her skin off of her leg put it on her face."

She kissed his forehead again, "You tell me what time you want to go and we're there."

He smiled against her and hugged her tighter, "You smell really pretty tonight, mom."

She laughed out loud and pulled back to look at him, "And your as handsome as the day I first saw you… you gonna help out around here while I'm gone tonight?"

Sam exhaled, "Yeah, I told Isaac I'd help him with his tie tonight, he wants to be a ladies man, mom, but I don't think he realizes that it's not his calling."

Olivia and Elliot both erupted in laughter and Olivia playfully pushed Sam's shoulder, "Be nice, Son."

Sam smirked and walked away, "Always."

"Mommer!" Solomon's eyes went wide, his lips curled into a smile as he pointed at her, "You so purdy, Mommer."

Elliot watched the blush creep along her neck as she squatted low to her son, "You sure do know how to make a lady blush little boy."

His face turned to stone. She'd said the big, 'no no'. "I'na man, Mommer. Daddy and Sammy say so."

She grinned wrapped him in her arms and kissed his cheek, "Yeah, but you're my man."

"Hey," Elliot grinned at his wife, "what about me? I thought I was your man."

She rolled her eyes and peered back down to her son, "You thought of a name for your snake?"

"I gotta frog!" Hannah interrupted clearly irritated that her mother's arms were around her brother and not her.

Olivia laughed, "And have you thought of a name for him?"

Boldly she looked at her mother and allowed her smile to form slowly before she was showing all teeth, "Kermit."

"Kermit?" Elliot crinkled his nose, "Sweetie, that's not the most original thing you've come up with what about-" he shut up the minute his daughter's smile broke in front of him. Her eyes welled up but she refused, absolutely refused to break in front of her brother.

"El," Olivia whispered as he looked on with raised brows and bugged eyes, it was his classic look that told everyone he'd just realized the error of his way… too late.

"Oh, morning glory," Elliot whispered and moved to touch her to which she simply huddled into her mother's body and declined his touch, "I'm sorry, Hannah… I like the name Kermit, I do. It's got to be the best name I've ever heard of," he said softly and rested his hand on her small back, "I'm sorry, little girl. Daddy didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"I tired, Mommy," Hannah whispered, "I'na go sleepies."

Olivia pulled her back gently, "Honey, your daddy was talking to you…why don't you talk with daddy while I finish getting ready?"

Hannah exhaled, turned back to her brother who was watching his parents and sister with careful concern, until Hannah stuck her tongue at him and his eyes widened in shock, "Oohhh,"

"Time out," Olivia whispered knowing full well what Hannah had done. Her mother and father would be leaving soon and instead of allowing her father to apologize to her, instead of allowing him access to her wound, she willingly ate the 'time out bullet' to get away from him. Olivia closed her eyes and exhaled as she felt her daughter slowly walk away, head up shoulders back and sit at the kitchen table. How a three year old Hannah could have the emotional make up of Olivia when she was twenty or even thirty, she doesn't know, but she'd sell everything she and Elliot had to break her of it. To break her of growing up to be like Olivia.

"Mommer?" Solomon looked at his mom as she stood to her feet.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Nana be okay," he nodded softly, "No sad Mommer."

Olivia smiled down at him, "Not sad honey." _Just scared for her_.

"I go be wit her, no worries," he told her and hugged her leg tightly before moving and doing exactly what Elliot would do for Olivia, sit next to her while she endured her punishment.

"I guess I should have thought before I said that, huh?" Elliot asked and exhaled.

Olivia smiled softly, "That's a one."

He laughed at her and kissed her mouth softly before pulling back, "I didn't mean to hurt her."

Olivia cupped his bearded cheek, "She'll be fine. She's a trooper."

He nuzzled her nose with his, "Finish getting ready. Casey is gonna be here soon, and we're running late."

"Where we going?" she asked and bit her bottom lip to hold in a smile, "come on, tell me."

"No."

"That's a two," she grinned and kissed him softly, "I like this dress."

"Yeah?" he whispered and grazed her lips again, "I do too. You look really sexy in it," and just before he could bend lower to kiss the rise of her breast Casey Novak announced her presence with the ringing of the door bell.

"Aunt Casey!" Solomon yelled from the kitchen table with a grin as Hannah quickly found her mother's eyes and asked silently for a pardon.

"Go ahead," Olivia smiled and watched the two youngsters bolt to the front door.

"Who be there?" Solomon asked through the door.

"Yeah, who it be?" Hannah said with a giggle.

"Are you kidding me?" Casey's muffled laugh came through the door.

"It's Santa Claus," Paul chuckled through the door.

Hannah tip toed and between her and her brother they both opened the door, "He not real!" Hannah laughed and immediately held up her arms for Casey to pick her up.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, I'm hurting today."

"Owie?" Solomon asked peering up at her.

"Yeah, your Aunt Casey stayed in the sun too long," Paul laughed and gently lowered Addison to the ground.

"Hi, guys," a now four year old Addison Novak smiled. He took after his father, tall. In fact, at four he was an inch taller than Isaac. But it was his hair that made everyone stand in wonderment as it turned from a dingy blond to a light brown and from the looks of it now, was starting to take on his mother's original red, "Isaac?"

Paul laughed and picked up Solomon who was eagerly pulling on his shirt to do so as Casey took Hannah by the hand and led her back into the living room.

"Woah!" Casey laughed and covered Hannah's eyes, "You're folks are up to no good."

Hannah giggled, "Give'em time out, Aunt Casey."

Olivia and Elliot quickly separated from a heated kiss. She smoothed out the front of her dress, bowing her head to cover her blushing face, "Uh, I gotta finish getting ready."

"Hey," Paul smiled at Elliot who cleared his throat in nervousness.

"Hey," he laughed, "good too see you….holy crap." Elliot's eyes widened as Casey stepped into the light, "Casey… what happened to you?"

Paul grinned, "Oh, that's just a little sunburn."

"A _little_ sunburn?" Elliot raised his brow as he slowly picked up Addison and gave him a strong squeeze before letting him down, "Looks like you fell asleep on the beach or something."

"Well," Casey laughed painfully, "that's exactly what happened. Notice I'm not burned on the back?" she chuckled and turned around to show her milky calves, "Nice huh?"

Elliot grinned and raised his brows, "You look like a lobster."

"I feel like burnt toast," she groaned and exhaled, "Where's your better half?"

"Better half?" Elliot pursed his lips and let his smile take over, "she's getting ready."

"Then why are you in here?" Paul asked with a smirk, "When Casey is getting ready, I love to-"

"Finish that sentence and your dead," Casey eyed him playfully and moved past the men to entertain children that were happily waiting for their aunt to occupy their time. In spite of the sunburn that Casey had, in spite of the pain she felt when the kids touched her, she happily let her son climb onto her lap followed by the Stablers and eventually her husband who sat next to her as Elliot moved through the hall to be with Olivia.

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Olivia has never looked more beautiful to Elliot than right now. Of course, he'd probably think that tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that because to him, she's always beautiful. Even when she's ready to kill him. In fact, that's when she's the most beautiful because that is when she is the old Benson he remembers sitting across his desk when they were both members of an elite team instead of a crippled lieutenant forced to retire and a disgraced cop booted out on her butt in the midst of her most trying challenge that had ever faced her.

The possibility of loosing her husband.

Of being a widow.

And so, tonight, as she smoothens the fabric of her black dress that Elliot bought her just because he wanted too, she is beautiful; just as she will be beautiful tomorrow night and the next night.

He leaned up against the door frame of the room, content to continue watching her reflection in the mirror. The way she moves has always been so incredible, strong yet feminine. Sexy. He smirked seeing her adjust the spaghetti strap of the dress and frown in the mirror. She pulled the strap down, re adjusted it and ran her finger over the top of her breast only to frown again. He continued to watch her, his eyes widening as she exhaled, pursed her lips with an obvious look of frustration as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She didn't like the dress.

Uh oh.

He licked his lips, swallowed and pushed himself off of the wall, slowly making his way to her as she continued to adjust the dress. She jumped in surprise, her brown eyes growing large as she grinned into the reflection of the mirror at him. She leaned back against his chest, just as soon as his arms wrapped around her waist, "If you don't like it," he whispered and kissed the top of her shoulder softly, "I can take it back… you can wear something else or we can stay in ton-"

"I love it," she smiled wide and wrapped his arms tighter around him, "I do…I just don't… do you think… well… what do you think about my boobs?"

He grinned against her and looked up to meet her eyes in the mirror. Her perfume and shampoo and whatever else came out of the thousands of little bottles in their bathroom, practically screamed at him to take her to the bed and keep her there all night with him. "I happen to think they're pretty remarkable."

She frowned, pursed her lips and cupped the base of both breast, "They're sagging, already."

He laughed aloud, held his cheek against hers and wrapped his arms around her entire body, "No, Liv… they're beautiful. You're beautiful… gorgeous."

She reached back, touched his face and smiled, "Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but uh… I'm getting old now, El… I've had three kids latched to these girls. They're not in the best of shape."

He kissed her cheek softly, and slowly moved her hair that fell just below her shoulder blades to the side and gently kissed and tongued the back of her neck as he unzipped the back of her dress and slowly lowered the straps of the dress.

"Elliot," she chuckled, leaning forward slightly and grinning, "we'll be late and… Casey and Paul are in the front room."

"Casey and Paul have sex while they talk to us on the phone," he said softly, more focused on the line of her black strapless bra as he lowered the dress to her waist. "We should have sex one day while we talk to them on the phone."

She laughed and blushed, "No."

He held the material of the dress at her waist and locked his eyes with hers as he slowly unclasped her bra with his free hand, "New bra?"

She smiled, "Yeah."

"Frivolous purchase?"

"Definitely."

"You're starting to like those types of purchases aren't you?" he whispered in her ear and gently released the fabric of the bra from her body.

"Yeah. I do," she said softly and looked away from the mirror only to have him guide her face back and encourage her to look at herself.

"Believe me, Olivia," he kissed the lobe of her ear, "you're not the only one who likes the frivolous purchases… what's wrong with your body, Liv?" He asked softly and cupped her breast with a warm hand, "Huh?" he muttered against her skin as she leaned her neck back over his shoulder, "Tell me."

"You expect me to think… with your hand on me?" she smiled and straightened herself, gently removing his arm from her waist so she could gather her bra, "Come on, Elliot. We'll be late."

He stopped her, turned her to face him and kissed her mouth softly, "You're sexy, Liv."

"I've got grey hair, Elliot."

"I think it's hot."

"My boobs are gonna be hitting my knees in five years."

He smiled compassionately at her, "Liv… you're in the best shape of your life, believe me… I feel your thighs tighten around my body and sometimes I think your gonna kill me."

It was her turn to laugh out loud. She held the dress and bra with one hand, ran her other hand along his chest and exhaled, "You still think I'm hot?"

He grinned, "Hottest thing I've ever seen."

She closed her eyes, a small chuckle before turning back to the mirror, "Hold my dress?" she asked and was surprised when he shook his head no and simply took the bra from her.

"You hold it," he waggled his brows and quickly wrapped the material around the front of her body before she could protest.

"El-"

"Shh… just… work with me, I've never actually put one of these things on."

"Really?" she grinned and raised her hair, "You'd never know that by the way you take it off of me."

He laughed and gently aligned the cups to her breast pulling the fabric along her ribs and behind her, "You like that one handed trick?"

She bit her bottom lip as he fastened the bra and helped her raise the dress, "I like your one finger trick."

He froze. Swallowed. "Liv."

She laughed, "Shut up, Elliot. Just zip me up, please."

He grinned, growled into her neck and playfully pulled her back into his body as they laughed together, "You look amazing in this dress, Liv," he whispered once their laughter subsided and he'd successfully zipped her tanned body into the black fabric.

"Well," she said softly and smiled at him, "this sexy guy picked it out for me… it made me really happy, tonight."

He stopped and look at her intently, "Were you… not happy, Liv?" he asked softly.

She smiled at him in the mirror, "I'm always happy with you right next to me, Elliot. This just… I don't know… made me feel, like when we were first married, you know?"

He grinned, "I like doing things like this for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… I like to see your smile."

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him, "Elliot… you've always made me happy. You know that, don't you?"

He exhaled, "Sometimes I do. Sometimes… I think I test your patience too much."

She laughed, "Like I don't test yours? Come on, Elliot, you and me… we'll always make each other happy, we'll always make one another smile, even when we want to gouge each other's eyes out."

They chuckled together before he grew serious and took a deep breath.

"What?" she tilted her head and turned to face him, "What is it? You look worried."

He licked his lip, "I got something for you… I was going to give it to you tonight, but I want to give it to you now."

She grinned, "You got something for a gray haired, saggy boob, chapped lip, woman?"

He furrowed his brow, "No."

Her brows mimicked his, "You just sa-"

"I got something for this dynamic, perfect and sexy wife of mine… let me know when she gets here, huh?" he smirked.

She slapped his chest playfully, "So I'm having an off night."

He leaned in softly and kissed her mouth gently, "Liv… you've been having an off last couple of months… what's with the self esteem issues, huh?"

She shrugged, exhaled, "Just… feeling… not really, sexy. I guess."

He kissed her lips gently, didn't mind the chapped lips she had suddenly developed, enjoyed the feeling of his tongue passing across her lips and into her mouth, his beard tickling her, "I have something that… well," he pulled back and pushed her hair behind her ear, "it might not make you feel sexy… but maybe it'll make you feel like I was thinking about you today."

She cocked her brow, "Even though I ticked you off?"

He grinned, "Well… I got it a few days ago… picked it up today."

She smiled, "What? Tell me. What?"

"Your patience really sucks, Liv."

She laughed, "Times ticking Stabler… we going out or are we gonna stay here in this bathroom?"

He smiled, reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a long slender box, it's black covering telling her that whatever it was that was inside of it, was gonna be perfect. He opened it slowly and suddenly snapped it shut like he was some kind of Richard Gere and she was supposed to grab her chest and laugh, but before she could do anything he pulled her out of the vicinity of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

"Elliot!" she half laughed and half scolded, "Your cane!"

He kissed her quickly and opened the small box as they separated. She looked down, brows raised, mouth ajar, "Wow," she whispered and continued to stare.

"I didn't want to give it to you in the restroom," he smirked. "Take it."

She looked up at him, "It's for me?"

He furrowed his brow, "No, I went and bought a tennis bracelet for my three-year-old daughter… Liv!" he laughed and took the diamond bracelet from the box and smiled at her, "Give me your wrist."

She obeyed and grinned as he clasped the gift around her wrist, "Just… I saw it, Liv and I thought… man, that would make her smile."

She smiled softly, fingered the bracelet and cupped his bearded face, pulling him down to her mouth and kissing him, sipping softly from his bottom lip and taking in the scent of his cologne. She separated slowly, "Thank you, Elliot. I… needed this. I needed to feel sexy again. Thank you for noticing."

He kissed her softly, rested his forehead against hers, "I always know you, Liv. Always."

"You coming with me on this outing," she smiled and kissed him again, "or were you gonna hang out in this bedroom?"

"You're anxious to get out?"

"We missed the last few Tuesdays," she nodded, "I want to spend time with you, yeah."

He rubbed her shoulders with his palms and took her body in, the strong shoulder line, the way the dress caressed her perfect breast. He didn't care if she thought they weren't perfect. His mouth was always on them, his hands, fingers, tongue, his lips was always on them and he says they're perfect. The way the fabric held to her slender waist and flowed along gorgeous hips stopping at strong thighs just above perfect knees.

He also noticed a naked left ring finger.

He frowned, tickled the palm of her left hand, "Where's your ring?"

She looked down and mentally kicked herself for not putting it back on after getting out of the shower. She knew it bothered him, but if it bothered him this much when she took it off for thirty minutes, what would happen when it washed down the drain and it was gone for good?

Instant coronary.

"El-"

"Why do you take it off? I hate that you take it off," he whispered and exhaled.

"Elliot," she cupped his face and smiled softly, "I just-I told you, it slips off in the shower and I don't want to loose it. It's on the counter… I'll get it, right now," she told him and turned to retrieve the wedding set.

"You're not leaving…ever, right?" he whispered.

She stopped and turned to face him, "Elliot… where'd that come from?"

"I just… I hate that you take the ring off, Olivia," he clenched his jaw.

She nodded softly, "I'm not leaving, Elliot…. never. I've made bad choices, but I've also learned from them, too."

He exhaled, "I'm sorry… I'm not sure where that came from… just… don't take it off, huh? I don't like it."

She turned and retreated to the bathroom, quickly located the wedding set and slipped back into its rightful place. She smiled as soon as the cool metal caressed her finger. She'd never really though she would be the kind of woman that would hold such sentiment in a ring. Then again, she never thought she'd be wearing a wedding ring. She grinned again, flipped the light switched and stepped out of the restroom to see Elliot scrunched over tying his dress shoe.

"One wedding ring, back in place," she smiled and held up her hand before sitting next to him as he lowered his foot back to the ground.

"You ready, Liv?"

"I need those amazing shoes you got me."

He laughed and moved to retrieve them.

"Your cane, Elliot. Where is it?" she asked skimming the room quickly. She's used to his hiding spots. Under the bed. Behind the bench seat of his truck. Between the mattress and the most creative of them all… Solomon and Hannah's toy box.

He knelt carefully in front of her with the strappy heel in his hand, "If I get a note from my doctor saying I don't' have to use it anymore… will you stop nagging me?" he chuckled.

She smirked, "He'll never clear you, so, yeah… I'll agree to that."

He smacked her calf playfully and carefully helped her foot into the shoe before securing it around her ankle, "Fit?"

"Looks like it," she grinned and let him help her with the last one.

She watched his careful hands, even the one that still at time at a slight tremor in it. Nerves that were too damaged to truly let his hand function at a hundred percent. But she'd take the ninety seven percent the doctor had said he had.

Ninety-seven percent and a small tremor was better than dead.

"Why does it bother you?" she asked softly vaguely aware that Casey had just let out an intense yelp from the living room and Paul was profusely apologizing as Isaac scolded him for hurting her.

"What?" He asked rubbing the back of her calves and producing heat.

"The ring… why does it bother you that I take it off to shower?" 

He exhaled, rested his hands on her thighs, gently rubbing with his thumbs, "Just… I don't."

She nodded slightly and caressed his cheek, "Never leaving, Elliot. Never. God himself will have to come for me. I'm not leaving; I promise… just because I take the ring off… it doesn't mean I'm thinking anything other than not wanting to loose it in the drain."

He nodded, "I know I sound irrational, but… the day I saw you without it… that day you came home from school when I was still in that ridiculous chair. I knew I'd never make it without you, and when I see the ring on the counter… I don't… I wonder if you can live without me be-"

"I can't," she interjected his ramble softly and smiled, "I can't, Elliot… I've tried everything to worm my way out of going to this conference… we haven't been away from each other in a long time. I'm not looking forward to it."

He waggled his brows, "Is that why you want to take my penis with you?"

Her eyes went large as she grinned and then let go in laughter, "Elliot!"

"Come on!" he laughed and pushed himself up, extending his hand, "Come on, we've spent too much time in here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mommer!" Solomon pointed and bolted to meet his mother in the hallway as she and Elliot finally made their way to their awaiting friends.

"Up! I wan up!" he grinned and Olivia immediately picked him up, holding him high into the air before touching her nose to his.

"Hey, good lookin'. You show your Aunt Casey your snake?"

"Yeah!" he grinned and held tight to her, "I pickded a name, Mommer."

"I had nothing to do with it," Paul interjected and pointed to Casey, "That woman is your culprit."

Olivia stared wide-eyed at Casey, "Oh… what…. Case… you never heard of sunscreen?"

Casey rolled her eyes, "Yeah, a woman as pale as myself regularly goes out without sunscreen… real bright, Liv. No pun intended."

Olivia grinned, "About as bright as your sunburn… fall asleep on the beach."

Paul bent over in laughter, "For four and a half hours!"

Elliot's brows went high, "Geeze, really that long Casey?"

"You know," Casey smirked, "I'm glad you all are getting a kick out of this, but the real question should be, 'what was Paul doing in those four and a half hours I was asleep on the beach?"

Paul groaned, "Casey!"

"Yeah," she smiled, "tell them… tell them, why I had to go to the beach by myself for the day."

"Casey-"

"He wanted to learn the hula,"

Elliot's mouth went wide as he stared at a blushing Paul, "You wanted to shake your bon bon, Paul?"

Paul grinned, "Shut up."

"Das a one!" Hannah said suddenly and pointed at Paul, "Keep it up bushter."

Paul laughed and scooped her up, "Tell your folks to get out of here so we can put on cartoons and make a party in here."

Hannah grinned a perfect set of primary teeth, "Bye bye, Mama."

"Be good, guys," Olivia grinned as Sam entered the room.

"You leaving now, mom?" Sam asked.

"Yeah… you got everything you need?"

"Yeah," he smiled and hugged her tightly, "Love you, mom."

"Me too," she whispered and kissed the crown of his head.

"Alright," Elliot called out to the kids, "come get hugs and kisses, quick, or were gonna be late."

And just like that, two fully charged three year olds ran to their mother almost toppling her over. She moved a quick step back and caught her balance as she laughed and hugged them both, a kiss given as they moved to their father.

"Isaac?" Olivia said softly noticing that her middle son sat on the couch, his shirt un tucked, hair a mess, brows furrowed. Pissed. "Do I get a hug and kiss?"

He folded his arms and stared at a muted television screen.

"We told him you two were heading out," Casey said softly, "he's not too happy about it."

Elliot exhaled, "He was happy to see Addison."

"Yeah," Olivia said softly and looked at her son, "Come one honey, give mom a kiss goodbye huh?"

Isaac had his fathers thousand yard stare down pat.

"Get out of here!" Paul jumped in happily, not wanting their night to be full of worry, "get out of here, have fun and don't worry about the kids."

"Yeah, mom," Sam called from the kitchen, "we're good; go have fun tonight, dad's got good things planned."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She felt like a teenager in his truck. She hated the truck at first, but the only think she loves more than making love to him on the bench seat of his truck is watching Elliot back out of the drive way with Sam, on their way to a voice lesson that Elliot had strongly opposed until he heard his son sing for the first time only months ago. After that, Elliot is determined to be the one to take him.

And the only thing she loves more than watching him back out of the drive way with Sam, is when Elliot starts the engine and instantly pulls her close to him so that she is sitting in the middle of the seat. She loves that he insists she be there, right next to him, as if the three foot separation was too much. She loves that he allows her to fall asleep on his shoulder when, on those rare occasions, their date has went into the early hours of the morning. She especially loves that he puts her arm around her shoulders and drives over the track of the gate without pause or concern for what took place there only a few years ago.

It might have taken him seven months to check the mail box by himself when she wasn't at the house. It might have taken him thirteen months to get close to the gate without flinching or staring at the control box and it might have taken him a little while longer to go from a nightmare every night, to only one or two a week, but he's done it and as the gate slowly close behind them and he accelerates the grumbling truck, turning immediately onto the street. She can think of nothing more magnificent than the man next to her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You lied to me, Elliot," Olivia said with a small smile, "You said your cane was in the back of your truck."

He grinned as they waited to be seated in the restaurant, "I did say that, didn't I?"

"I'll tell Hannah… she'll put you in a time out."

He laughed and rested his hand on the small of her back as they stood in the darkened waiting area of the restaurant, "No kids, tonight. Just me and you."

She pulled back and laughed, "Yeah, we've never been able to do that, why do we always say that? Waste of breath."

He smiled, brought her hand to his lips and kissed her softly, "No kids, tonight, Liv. Just you and me."

She eyed him, "You're particularly sappy tonight… what's going on?"

He smirked, "You've got a way with words."

She smiled, "You know what's really great about these heels, El?"

"What?"

"I'm at perfect kissing height."

He grinned, cupped her cheek and kissed her softly unconcerned with the older couple sitting down and waiting for a table, unconcerned with the teenage group staring on in horror that two older people were making out in public and definitely unconcerned with the guy that had been staring at Elliot's wife since the moment they walked in. He'd kiss her, let him know that if he came within a football field of her, he'd kill him.

Slowly.

"Ahem," the hostess smiled sheepishly, "uh… sorry, but your table is ready."

They separated with a smile and followed the hostess to the back of the restaurant they'd taken their seat and she was surprised to see that after being married for six years, after being a couple for eight, they still flirted like they were first married.

It was somewhere between the salad and main course that she'd moved her leg to his, their conversation was easy as they caught up on things that only consisted of him and her. Their nightly talks that they'd taken to having as they fell asleep in one another's arms, their plans for the week ahead. Elliot's daunting task of taking care of the kids while she was away.

Yep, they couldn't go on a single date without talking about the kids.

"You lost," she smiled, "you brought the kids up first."

He grinned, "What's my punishment."

She arched her brow, "I'll think of one."

"Careful, I might enjoy a good punishment."

Her eyes went wide in laughter as she tossed her napkin at him, "Perv."

"Want to dance?" Elliot smiled and nodded to the small area reserved for couples who simply wanted to slip away into the comforts of a darkened space and listen to music as they held each other close and simply allowed one another to be.

She shook her head and stabbed her fork into her salmon, "No. You hate to dance and you didn't bring your cane."

He licked his lips and smiled as he cast his napkin to the table and stood extending his hand to her, "You don't think I bought you those shoes so you could sit down all night did you? Those are dancing shoes, Liv."

She smiled slowly and looked at the three couples dancing close to one another, "You planned to dance tonight?"

His smiled turned to a grin, "Yep, and there was no way I was bringing that ridiculous cane if I was gonna dance next to someone as gorgeous as my wife… let's go, Liv."

She stood, placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the dance floor that occupied the back section of the restaurant; they found their place quickly, her arms around his neck, his hands on her hips. She pulled him close to her, rested her chin on his shoulder and let him lead her slowly around the dance floor swaying softly to a melody she recognized but couldn't place.

"Thank you, Elliot."

"For what?" he asked grazing his lips over the rim of her ear before kissing her hair softly.

"For… everything. Just… we've changed so much."

He held her tighter, "We've grown together."

"Yeah," she nodded against him, "remember when we used to fight and it was like the end of the world?" she chuckled; "now we fight and we still go out."

He laughed softly, "Viv's trained us well."

"Yeah," she whispered and held him tighter, "Elliot?"

"Hmm?"

"I think something is wrong with Isaac."

He continued to sway softly, guiding her hips to the same rhythm as hers, "Now who's the one bringing up the kids?"

She smiled, "Sorry."

"Well talk about him later, huh?"

"Yeah," she exhaled softly and lowered her hands, slipping them into his suit jacket and locking them at the small of his back.

"Liv?"

"Hmmm?" she answered, unlocking her hands and pulling his shirt tail out so she could slip her hand under it and caress his flesh.

"We'll have a baby, right?"

"Look at you," she shook her head, "were not allowed to bring up the kids we have, so you bring up the kids we're gonna have. Pathetic," she smiled and felt him smile against her.

"So, you agree we'll have another one, then?" he whispered softly in her ear.

She pulled back to look at him, searched his face before cupping his cheek softly, "I'm saying, let's see how your test goes, then we'll go from there."

He nodded, "I think you should… call the attorney."

She furrowed her brows, "You don't want the test?"

"I do!" he nodded as another couple stepped onto the floor to dance. "I do," he nodded, "but, if it doesn't come out the way we want… I guess, we should start looking at plan B, huh?"

She nodded softly, kissed his mouth, "We'll have another one, Elliot… might not be exactly how we plan it… heck God might make us have a plan C or D… but we'll have one."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was just as Elliot had gotten the zipper of her dress stuck as she lay laughing under his shirtless body on the bench seat of his truck, his slacks pushed down to his thighs allowing his erection to stand at perfect attention against the actions of her hands, that they'd gotten the call from Casey that Isaac had been crying hysterically since they'd left and refused to calm down, going so far as to systematically destroy the boys' bedroom by taking all books including Sam's audio books and sending them flying through the air.

"Something is going on with him, Elliot… I should have stayed home," she exhaled as he helped her out of the truck.

"We need our time too, Liv… he's a big boy. He probably just doesn't like being away from you," he explained as they drug themselves up the steps of their home. "He was at school, then we went out… to him that's a whole day of no mom… and to him that's not good," Elliot laughed and wrapped his arm around her, "He'll be fine."

"I can hear him crying through the front door, Elliot… geeze, what's happening to him?"

Elliot exhaled, kissed her cheek, "He's adjusting, no Stabler in his right mind likes school."

"Sam does," she smirked.

He smiled, unlocking the door, "Cheap shot."

"I won, though."

"Touche."

The screams were ear curdling.

"Mommer!" Solomon ran to her frantically and pointed at Isaac who sat on Casey's lap simply staring at the television and crying, his cheeks red, his belly convulsing with his hiccups and ragged attempts for air. No calm no matter how much Casey tried, and from the look on Casey's face she'd been trying for a long time.

"Mommer! Sac, browken!"

"One-two-tree, mommy," Hannah ran to her, her face twisted up with concern as she pointed back to Isaac who, if he'd seen his parents, it didn't register. He continued to cry laboriously in his aunt's lap. "Time out!" Hannah said pointing at him and then looking back at her mother, "he no go. Fart Knocker, bworken."

"That's a one," Olivia said softly, "you should be in bed, pumpkin."

"Come on, Morning Glory," Elliot whispered and picked her up, taking Solomon's hand and walking them to their room, "Let mommy work her magic with Isaac, huh?"

"Yeah," Solomon agreed softly, "Sac in big twouble, big mess. Long time out."

"Olivia," Paul shook his head softly, "I'm sorry… we didn't have a choice but to call… he lost it."

She furrowed her brow, tilted her head and looked at her son, "Isaac?" she said softly and he didn't budge but continued to cry, "Honey?"

"He's been like this," Casey said softly, running her hand through his hair, "as soon as you left, he started to cry and he was so angry."

"Did he say why?" Olivia asked as she slowly made her way to him and knelt in front of him, "Where's Addison?"

"Asleep in your room… hope it's okay, he couldn't sleep out here."

"It's fine," Olivia said absently and gently touched Isaac's leg to which he flinched and began to sob uncontrollably louder, "Hey," she said softly and framed his face, forcing him to lock eyes with hers.

He was distant. There, but not there. Isaac, but not Isaac at all. He was looking right through her. Terrified, his body shaking, "Isaac!" she called his name firmly and when he still didn't snap out of it she lowered her face so her nose touched his, "Isaac, its mom!"

And as if her name, her touch, her voice and her skin had the power to make him better, his eyes focused solely on hers and his face crumbled as he slid off of Casey's lap and into his mother's arms. Casey hissed in pain but quickly recovered, "Sorry, to cut your date short, Olivia."

Olivia shook her head as she rocked her son who held tightly to her as she kneeled, "I'm glad you did… he's never been like this."

"I'm surprised he can still cry… he's been going for hours," Paul said softly.

"I'm sorry, you guys," Olivia whispered. "I am… he's usually good."

"We know," Casey smiled softly, "That's why we called… maybe the first day of school was just too much and he wanted you back."

Olivia continued to rub his back and he continued to cry softly against her, "Maybe," she said and carefully stood with him in her arms.

"We're gonna head out," Paul said helping Casey up, "we want to give you time with him without us hanging around."

Olivia nodded, "Thank you, I'm really sorry. I just thought he was having a tantrum that we were leaving I didn't think he'd cry like this."

Casey grinned, "Oh…he did more than cry."

"Huh?" Olivia asked nodding for her to follow her to get Addison.

"You don't have a clean room in the house, Olivia," Casey grinned, "Courtesy of your Tasmanian devil."

Olivia groaned, "You try a time out?"

"Made it worse… thus the no clean rooms."

"Nice," Olivia whispered and continued rubbing Isaac's back as he shuddered out breath.

"Hey," Elliot smiled as he met the ladies in the hall, "I'll take him and get him ready for bed, and you help out with Addison."

Olivia smiled softly and slowly peeled Isaac from her body passing him to his father and watching as his blue and brown speckled eyes filled with tears the farther his dad took him from her. She quickly went into the bedroom hoping it would save him the misery.

Out of sight out of mind.

"Nice picture," Casey smirked pointing to the picture of Olivia's pregnant and naked body on the wall.

"Shut up, Casey," Olivia blushed and quickly took off her heels and slowly pulling the comforter back from Addison's body, "He's gotten so big."

"He weighs a ton," Casey grinned proudly, "Just like his father."

Olivia smiled and gently ran her finger over his cheek as he slept, "He's got Paul's nose… too bad he's got your pigment challenge."

Casey laughed, and rubbed his belly from the other side of the bed, "Wake up big boy."

He didn't move and Olivia simply grinned watching Casey's face light up as she stayed next to her son. Years ago, she'd done everything to get away from him, including telling Paul to take him and leave. Today, she's a changed woman, all mom. And proud. "How you feeling with him these days Casey?" Olivia said softly.

"He's amazing, Olivia," she whispered as she rubbed the smooth skin that showed itself from just under his polo shirt, "He loves to sit and spend time with me in the house office. I give him the junk mail and he opens it and reads it while I go through the other stuff… he digs me. I never thought that would happen, but this little guy loves me."

Olivia grinned, "That's good, I'm glad to hear it."

"We have Thursday morning breakfast, no daddy aloud. It's just me and him and it's great."

"You guys decide on having another one?" Olivia waggled her brows, "It's a great excuse to get in as much sex as possible."

Casey snorted and moaned, "Don't make me laugh… it hurts my cheeks to laugh."

"Come on," Olivia smiled softly and extracted Addison from her bed, "I'll take him to Paul for you since you're fried… think you'll at least get a tan out of that?"

"Nah," Casey said, standing painfully, "pasty chicks just burn, the top layer falls off and bam! Instant milky white again."

Olivia shook her head as they made their way back down the hall, "That su-" she stopped instantly.

Casey exhaled looking down the hall to the boys' room. Isaac's shrieks and desperate crying suddenly louder than ever, "He's been upset."

"I'll take him," Paul interjected and delicately took his son, "we'll see ourselves out… be with him."

"I'm sorry guys," Olivia said again and quickly made her way deeper into the house, hearing the front door close with their exit before Sam stopped her in the hallway.

"Mom?"

"What!" she snapped and quickly corrected herself, "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to sound so grumpy… what's going on, tonight?"

"He's nuts mom… he totally thrashed my stuff. I don't know where anything is!"

She exhaled, "Was Hannah messing with him tonight? Is that why he's in a mood?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "he's been really mean to Hannah and Aunt Casey said he kicked Solomon in the gut."

Olivia's brows shot up, "Serious?"

"As a cataract."

She smirked, "Your humor is something else."

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to Isaac's screams, "His temper is something else… will you help me with my stuff if you find the off switch to him?"

Olivia grinned, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and kissed his forehead, "Go crawl in our bed honey. You've got school tomorrow."

He hugged her tightly, "Night, mom… did you have fun dancing?"

She grinned, "How'd you know?"

He waggled his brows, "I suggested it."

She nodded softly and kissed him again, letting her lips linger, "Thanks son… I needed it."

"Dad's a good guy, mom… little macho, but we're men… he really loves you, he tells us that all the time."

She smiled even in spite of Elliot's grumbling voice from the room, "I've got to get in there before Isaac takes your father down."

Sam smiled and walked away, "Night mom… beware of flying objects."

She should have taken his advice because just as she stepped foot into the room, Donatello the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle he'd gotten for his birthday was headed right for her face. Her hand shot up reflexively and her fingers instantly wrapped around it. He moved for Leonardo. Last time she checked there were four of those action figures and if Isaac was really desperate, Splinter the rat was close by, too. She wasn't waiting.

"Young man!" she glared at him. He simply moved to find something else as he continued to cry. To growl in frustration and destroy what ever was in his path.

Elliot exhaled and rubbed his head, "I think Shredder gave me a concussion," he said holding up the figurine that seemed to be a villain in real life. Well, when used as a weapon that is.

Isaac turned quickly and pulled his blanket and stuffed animal off of his rocking chair before tipping it over on its side and kicking it with his bare foot only to yelp in pain. Zeus groaned from the corner and just as soon as it was safe to make a quick exit, he and Moses tucked their tails between their legs and darted to safety.

"You throw one more thing, and you'll loose it, buster," Olivia warned.

He locked his eyes with hers his hand fidgeting with the Lego block he picked up just after tipping his rocking chair. He raised his arm.

"Isaac!" Elliot warned.

The blue Lego shot through the air nailing his mother in the neck. She closed the gap between them in two long, angry strides. "Stop!" she snapped, wrapping her hands around his small arms, "That's enough, son!"

He kicked her. Right in the belly.

And before Olivia could respond, before she could hide the shock on her face, Elliot had snatched him up so forcefully his head snapped to the side, a gasp of air at the surprise motion of his father being so rough with him.

"You do not hit your mother!" Elliot seethed and marched him quickly out of the room taking him to the living room, "I've never wanted to spank you, son. But you're begging me to do it."

"I hate you!" Isaac screeched, "You leave me! It's too small! I hate you!"

"Elliot!" Olivia followed them into the room concerned with Elliot's sudden uncharacteristic handling of their son.

"I hate you mom!" he said kicking his body in Elliot's arms before Elliot finally got him on the couch, "I hate you!" he sobbed into his hands.

"That's it," Elliot pulled him off of the couch, "you're getting a spanking!"

"NO!" Sam screeched making himself known and suddenly pushing past his mother to his father's voice, "NO!" he yelled and just as he touched Elliot's body, Sam used all of his weight possible, used all of his force and will and did the unthinkable.

He took Elliot down.

"Samuel!" Olivia yelled as Elliot gasped from the air being knocked out of his lungs, Sam's fist raising into the air to come down on Elliot's face, "STOP!" Olivia shouted and quickly restrained Sam.

"Don't touch him!" Sam yelled, "Don't touch him! He's just a boy!"

"Sam," Elliot pushed himself into a sitting position his eyes still wide as Isaac continued to screech from the couch, "Sam, I wasn't… it was a threat, I wasn't gonna-" 

"I heard you! You bastard! You said you'd never! Bastard!"

"Samuel!" Olivia squeezed him firmly, placing her lips at his ear, "Stop! Now!"

He sobbed, his body growing limp in her hold, "Don't touch him," he said softly and began to cry, "don't you touch him, Dad."

"I won't," Elliot replied and stood on shaky legs, "Sam," he said softly and motioned for Olivia to let him go. She did so and Sam stood boldly in front of his father just as he did that night when he and Olivia had fought and Sam tried to get his little brother out of the house.

"Don't touch him."

"I'm sorry, I upset you, Sam," Elliot said and gently and as slowly as possible rested his hand on Sam's shoulder, "I'm sorry you thought I'd actually do it. I'm sorry, son."

Olivia grabbed Isaac and took him into the kitchen as he continued to express his dissatisfaction with whatever had crawled up his five-year-old butt and died. Olivia watched as Elliot and Sam seemed to reconcile quickly, another sign of tremendous growth on Sam's part. His sudden vocabulary though, that would be addressed in the morning. For now, she held a fistful of Isaac's pajama shirt in her hand keeping him close as Sam walked back to their bed to sleep.

"You've got a record breaking time out coming up," Olivia exhaled, "it starts just as soon as I can let you go and your not gonna run."

"I don't want a time out!" he growled.

"Not an option."

"So!"

She shook her head, "Honey, you're so frustrated right now, you can't even come up with a good come back. Just take a few breaths, relax so I can let you go. You can do your time out, clean up the mess you made of the house and then well talk."

"No talking. I'm not talking. I'm not doing a stupid time out and I'm not going to school!"

"Isaac. Reagan. Benson. Stabler," Elliot seethed, "you keep talking to your mother that way, and you'll never see another toy until you're fifty you got me?"

"Shove it!"

Olivia and Elliot both looked at each other in shock. They almost wanted to laugh.

Almost.

"Son," She pulled him around to face her. She knelt quickly, pulled on his shirt until she was so close to his face both of their eyes crossed to look at each other, "Now, you listen to me, little boy," she said in a voice so cold, it startled all three of the people in the room, "you keep up with this attitude and you're gonna get exactly what's coming regardless if Samuel steps in to help you or not, you understand what I'm telling you?"

He sniffled, the first sign the he was breaking, "I hate you," he said softly.

She pulled back, something in his voice; the softness with which he said those three words somehow burned her so deeply she felt the ache in her bones. He stared at her, "You let me be scared all day. It's too small there and you make me be there. I hate you," he whispered and hiccupped.

She stared at him in shock. How can one sentence hurt so much when it only consists of three words that when written independent of one another are meaningless? "Do your time out," she whispered.

He stood still, motioned to where he was standing, the part of the kitchen separated for the children's time outs, "I am. I still hate you."

She swallowed, "You know what?" she sniffled, "I can't look at you right now, you've hurt me that much," she exhaled and pulled a chair to the corner of the kitchen. She picked him up, softly placed him in the chair, "I can't look at you Isaac. So I want you to look at the wall, because if you look at me, I'll cry," she whispered as her tears already fell. She pushed the chair close into the corner and turned to leave.

His sudden shrill was the only thing that stopped her from falling into Elliot's waiting embrace. She turned to see his profile, his little chest beating so frantically she thought he'd hyperventilate and pass out right there in the kitchen before she could get to him.

And that's exactly what happened.

"Elliot!"

"Get him!" he commanded as they both moved quickly, picking up their son and laying him on the cool of tiled floor, "Here," Elliot said frantically as he tossed her a cool rag, "put it on him."

She held it against his forehead and touched his cheek, "Wake up, baby," she said softly, "It's okay… you got scared, you're okay," she whispered and waited anxiously to peer down into blue eyes.

"He's gonna put us through the ringer by the time he's in first grade." Elliot smirked.

"If he ever makes it to first grade," she exhaled and rested her hand on his little chest, "It's so fast, Elliot… he's so scared."

"Wake up, Son," Elliot said softly and bent painfully and touch his son's cheek.

"Come on baby," Olivia whispered and smiled quietly as Isaac moved, his eyes fluttering open and blinking once then twice before settling in on his mother. He cried.

Not angry. Scared.

"Come here," she whispered and pulled him into her lap. "You're okay."

He sobbed into her body, his hands resting innocently on her ribs and breast, "Mommy, it's so scary."

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"He go down?" Elliot whispered, handing her his dress shirt to sleep in.

She smirked, "Dress shirt? Maybe I wanted to wear my frumpy night gown."

He grinned and pulled the covers back on the pull out sofa, "You don't have a frumpy night gown."

She reached behind her, fumbling for the zipper of the dress before finally finding it and pulling it down, "He's finally asleep… only took me two and a half hours."

"He say anything?" he asked widening his legs on the edge of the bed as he sat in his boxers.

"Not a word, just cried the whole time."

"Kindergarten can't be that rough," Elliot smirked as Olivia's dressed pooled at her ankles and she quickly unclasped her bra and let it fall. He watched her reach for the shirt, her nipples hardening instantly with the cool of the air.

"Doesn't mean I'm horny," she smirked. "Means I'm cold."

He shrugged, motioned for her to sit in front of him, he worked instantly on her shoulders with his hands and kissed the back of her head before smiling and resting his cheek against hers, "I could make you horny."

She laughed, "Nah, I think Isaac ruined it for us tonight."

He chuckled softly, "Yeah, you're tense."

She exhaled, leaned forward, "Lower," she whispered and exhaled as his large hands splayed over her tanned back, "Something's wrong with him, Elliot."

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One week after Isaac Stabler had suddenly taken an extreme displeasure in attending school, serving time outs and even refusing to take a bath in the boys' room after Olivia had taken down the clear Spongebob shower curtain and replaced it with a solid blue one, nothing had gotten better. Had she'd known that changing a simple shower curtain would send him into orbit she would have kept the clear one and duck taped the hole.

While the evenings were tolerable, the mornings were anything but. He refused to get out of bed going so far as to hold tightly to his bed and force both mother and father to drag him to the breakfast table where he was sure to toss his food on the floor making sure to rub it into his hair in hopes he would have to stay home.

It only made for another fight, this one involving water and soap and a very pissed off little boy. Time outs were useless and there wasn't a toy in his room after the first two days. He hadn't been outside for playtime, lost Spongebob privileges and even lost the Friday night soda pop for dinner. There wasn't much more she and Elliot could take from him to get him to bounce back and there wasn't much more she could take.

They'd called Huang and made a mental note to kill him for daring to be on vacation when their five-year-old was slowly loosing his mind. Next stop was Mags and to their surprise Sam had thought it humorous that his little brother was gonna sit on a couch right along with him.

She didn't think it was funny.

Especially when Mags was unavailable.

Alex had made it a point to stop by each day to go over lessons that he missed in school, because by the time the bell for the first recess sounded, Isaac's stubborn butt was already in a time out where he was screeching and eventually taken to the office so the rest of the children could learn without a screaming banshee in the midst.

He didn't work for Alex at the house either. Refused to read her flash cards, refused to write his letters or numbers and the very thought of having to go over his sight words was enough to spark a migraine. Elliot couldn't take it and as of yesterday had told Olivia to stop trying to get him caught up in his school work for the sole purpose of the family's sanity.

As bad as the week has gone she knows that today is going to be worse than rough. Today she would deal with Isaac in the morning and Elliot's test in the afternoon, only to come back home to Isaac in the evening.

Sandwich of rage. Like father like son. They were the bread and she was the meat. Dead.

"How long have you been awake?" Elliot whispered with a smile.

She opened her eyes slowly and smiled sloppily, "My eyes were closed."

"The worry on your face gave you away," he said and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"That coffee in your hand?" she asked groggily, playfulness trying to push through the exhaustion.

"Yep," he exhaled and took a sip of it, "just the way you like it… figured after twelve times, you'd need some to start the morning off."

"Twelve times what?"

He chuckled and looked at her telling her she knew exactly what he was getting at, "You checked on Solomon and Hannah twelve times… you're getting better."

She exhaled, grinned sleepily and pushed herself up to sit in the bed, "You gonna give me coffee or a hard time?"

Slowly, he handed her the mug and crawled in the bed next to her forcing her to scoot over, "That's an improvement from the sixteen times a few weeks ago," he laughed softly and wrapped her in a warm embrace.

She rested her head on his chest as she wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. A peace offering before the war. "Five."

His brows dipped, "Five?"

"I checked on Solo and Hannah five times… checked on Isaac seven."

He exhaled, kissed the crown of her head and stroked her arm softly, "You ready?"

"No."

"We've got to get him up."

She groaned, "Elliot… I can't do this another day, it's brutal."

"I know," he whispered pressing his lips to her again, "I know…Alex getting irritated yet?"

She laughed softly, "No. Says some kindergartners really hate school," she's keeping the principal at bay, convincing her to keep giving him a chance but if he doesn't get it together, I don't know what they're gonna do… can a kindergartner get suspended?"

He chuckled, "If he's a Stabler he's required to."

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"ISAAC!" Sam snapped just as soon as the scrambled egg his the side of his cheek, "What is your problem!"

"No school!" Isaac yelled from the kitchen table and promptly threw his cup of juice against the wall, "No! It's stupid! It's small! I hate it!"

"Shut up!" Sam groaned, wiping the napkin over his face before tossing it into his plate and quickly standing to get away from his maniacal brother.

"You shut up!" Isaac chirped, launching his fork into the kitchen and barely missing his older brother, "You said School was fun… stupid liar, butt!"

"Isaac, Reagan!" Olivia marched down the hall way and quickly pulled him out of his seat and putting him down right in front of Sam's body, "Apologize. Now."

"No!" he hissed and wiggled and twisted to get away.

She fought him, held his arms at his side and rested her forehead against his, "Please son," she whispered in exhaustion, "not today. Mommy can't take much more. Give me a break little man, please, just one break."

"NO SCHOOL!" He yelled, his eyes burning into hers as he pushed his forehead against hers like a stubborn goat using his horns to bully another.

"Alright," Elliot bellowed into the kitchen, "everyone in the car, lets go. Move." he said firmly but made sure to kiss and hug his children as they filed out. Hannah and Solomon still in their pajamas. There had been no time to change them.

Not when a certain five-year-old was destroying every item he could get his hands on. Picking a fight with Sam at every possible second.

Isaac was driving them nuts.

"MOVE!" Elliot hollered as Isaac simply slid onto the chair and griped the edge of the table until his hands turned while.

"Elliot-" Olivia went to say something and gave up mid sentence. She'd woken up with one nerve left and Isaac was dangling a chainsaw like a pendulum right over it.

Elliot moved quickly to his son, pried his fingers from the table and moving to the next hand only to have Isaac reattach his freed hand, "Liv- a little help," he snapped.

She exhaled moved to partake in the same thing they have done every morning since school hand started. She pried his left, held it firmly while Elliot pried his right and immediately heaved him over his shoulder, "You want to go to school with food in your hair and milk on your shirt?" Elliot grumbled as he walked out of the house with the screaming toddler, "Fine!"

Olivia groaned, tossed her head back and then forward pulling the keys off of the counter and following them as Isaac continued to kick and scream, "No school!"

"You're just like your mother!" Elliot snapped, "Stop being so stubborn!"

Olivia smiled softly and got into the car knowing full well that it would be all screams. All the way.

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"You ready?" Elliot scrubbed his hand over his face.

"This is so ridiculous," Olivia shook her head, "Sam got out of the car just fine."

Elliot smiled, "Yeah, well… Isaac is Isaac… you head up the back? I'll take the front?"

Olivia raised her brows, "I can't believe we have to do this every morning," she mumbled as she opened the car door, "Let's go Isaac."

"NO!" He barked and quickly began undoing his booster seat and climbing over the back of the seat.

"Back, Liv!" Elliot yelled as Solomon and Hannah watched in giggles as their mother and father were out maneuvered by their brother.

Olivia opened the hatch and reached for Isaac who half laughed and half cried as he launched himself over the seat again effectively dodging his mother and providing more laughable material for his little brother and sister who clapped their hands in encouragement of their brother. "Elliot! Driver's side!"

"Got him- no, he's going out the other-"

Just as Isaac had opened the passenger door and attempted to make his daring escape, his mother had cut him off grabbing a fist full of his shirt as he leaped out of the vehicle, "Wrong," she said calmly and made sure he landed softly on the cement.

He squirmed and fought her until she spun him around, "No you listen to me!" she snapped, her patience running out quickly, "Either me or your father is taking you to class, now I don't care who it is but you had better pick because I don't care if you like school or not. YOU'RE GOING!"

He looked at her with the saddest blue eyes she'd ever seen from him. He had bags under his eyes from a combination of no sleep and constant crying. His bottom lip had been chapped from his constant biting and chewing and fresh tears flowed.

"Baby," Olivia exhaled and wiped his cheeks, "please tell me why you are acting this way."

"No school," he whispered and hiccupped, "I don't like it. Jordan says I'm stupid and yesterday, I nailed him-"

"I know… Aunt Alex and the principal called."

He sniffled, "I got a super long time out. I don't like school, the numbers and letters are stupid and I don't like Jordan and its super small, mom… please, no school."

She exhaled, tangled her fingers with his, "Come on, Daddy can take Hannah and Solomon with him to work and I'll come to school with you, huh?"

"Liv-," Elliot interjected, "I've got a doctors appointment and how are you getting home?"

She smiled, kissed Elliot softly careful not to loosen her grip on her son, "I'll take a cab. You'll be fine at your doctor's. Tell Santos to keep an eye on the kids. They love him."

Elliot nodded, "Sam?"

"If you're not done in time, I'll call Robert and let him know."

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Dead man walking.

At least that's the attitude Isaac had as Olivia struggled to walk him down the hall of the Elementary room. The closer he got the heavier and more uncooperative he got.

As if he could get any more uncooperative.

"Honey," Olivia knelt in front of him outside of room 16. A welcome sign with giant primary red apples dangling and Mrs. Grey written proudly on the largest one.

"Mommy," he sniffled and wiped his cheek as he leaned into her "I don't like it here."

She tipped his chin up, "When God gave me you… I promised Him I'd make you fearless. I'll be right here with you. You need to get over this baby; you need to want to come to school."

"But… you will always be with me, right mom?" he asked her, "you'll always be with me and make me food when my tummy grumbles and you'll find my sock that matches and you'll help me with my zipper when it's stuck… you'll always be with me. Why do I need a small school?"

She ran her hand through his blond locks, "I'll always be with you, son, but you still need school in case I can't be with you."

His brows shot up in worry, "You'll leave me, mom?"

She shook her head, "Not on purpose, no. Never. But, sometimes God has different plans, and one day I may not be able to teach you your numbers or your letters or fix you dinner, so you'll have to be super smart-"

"'Cause if you're not at home, Dad won't get off of the couch? He'll be super broken, like never before?"

She pressed her lips together and held back tears never had really thought about the aftermath of her leaving or worse, dying, "He'd be really broken," she whispered. "You've got to get super smart so, just in case something happens to mommy, you can take care of daddy and Sam and Nana and Solo… come on, Isaac, let's go inside, son."

He shook his head, "No."

"That's not an option."

"I hate you."

She cupped his cheeks, stared at him with watery eyes, "That's too bad, because I love you with everything I have."

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"Mr. Stabler?" A young female voice entered the examination room.

Elliot's face shot up in a mixture of horror and surprise, "You're a woman."

The red haired doctor laughed, "You have amazing decoding skills. Amazing."

Elliot blushed, "I mean…. it's not-" he slipped off of the table, "I'm not doing this. Where's my doctor? What the hell is the matter with you people, every since we've been on this health plan I don't think we've had the same doctor not one damn time-"

"Mr. Stabler," she smiled softly and rested her hand on his shoulder to which he flinched and moved away. She licked her lips, obviously comfortable with his reaction as if it happened frequently. "I can assure you that I'm a professional, sir. I'm only here to help you."

"Where's my other doctor?" Elliot demanded, "He was perfectly capable of helping me. I'd like him to help me now. When I made the appointment they didn't say you were a girl."

She exhaled, "Mr. Stabler… where's your wife? Is she here?"

"My wife?" Elliot's eyes grew wide, "What do you mean my wife? I'm married. I've been married for six years. We're happy-" he stopped when the doctor laughed hard. "What's so funny?" Elliot demanded.

She held up his file, "Doctor Hallzman briefed me on all of his patients… said you were gonna be the one to freak out… he's doing an experimental surgery today, it's a once in a life time thing. He asked me to fill in… all I'm asking is for you to fill'er up," the doctor smiled and tossed a cup at Elliot.

Elliot visibly deflated, he bowed his head, "I was expecting a him… this is already embarrassing enough."

"He also said, since he knew you were gonna loose your mind, I could ask for your wife. He said you're a lot more easy to handle if she's here… she here or is this gonna be a nightmare for both of us?" she smiled softly. "I need to ask you a few questions… would you like her in here-"

"She's not here!" he snapped in annoyance, "Geeze, just… ask. Get it over with."

She smirked, "Normal erections?"

"That's it," he shook his head, "I'm leaving. I'll re-schedule."

"Wait time is five months… he was doing you a favor," she said matter of factly. Her annoyance with him finally showing.

He groaned, reluctantly sat on the table, "What?"

"Erections? Getting them?"

"Yes."

"How often?" she asked retrieving a pen from her pocket.

His jaw clenched, "Uh… I dunno. A lot." he smirked.

"Can you assign a number to it, what is 'a lot'?"

"Uh… anytime my wife is near me."

"Really?" she asked in surprise, "that's sweet."

He closed his eyes in sheer embarrassment, "Yeah, can we keep going please?"

"Sure, what about-" she stopped when a knock on the door interrupted them.

"Elliot?" Olivia peeked in, "Sorry, I'm late I got-" she stopped and raised a curious brow at the doctor, "You're not Doctor Hallzman."

She smiled, "We've established that… just going over some questions. You must be Mrs. Stabler?"

"I am," Olivia nodded softly and Elliot almost died of sheer pride that jealously momentarily flashed over Olivia's features as she quickly assessed the woman and turned to Elliot, "Hi," she whispered and kissed his cheek softly, letting her lips linger longer than normal before she whispered softly, "She might be pretty, but I'm the only one that can get you to fill that cup."

He blushed furiously and smiled as Olivia pulled up a seat and kept a skeptical eye on the doctor and her perfect jaw line and supple breast and soft skin and obvious appreciation for soft perfume. Her fancy shoes.

Her naked wedding finger. Olivia let her mind wonder.

"Are your erections pretty strong?" The doctor asked.

Suddenly, Olivia was back on track making a mental list on how she would slowly decapitate the woman with a pocket knife if she even so much as thought about hitting on Elliot. Just a flirtatious smile was all she needed and she would pounce. She smiled to herself; she was starting to sound like Elliot, assessing the men that stood within a mile of Olivia. Assessing the threat even though they both knew without a doubt, that there would never be a threat because the only people they'd ever want was one another. Not some young kid with wondering eyes or some woman whose mascara was obviously expired and need of another application. Not the doctor with a run in her panty hose.

He would want Olivia and she would want Elliot.

"Hello?" Elliot smiled and snapped his fingers playfully in front of her, "did you at least take me a picture?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion, "Huh?"

"A picture of wherever you were just now," he smiled and tossed her the cup, "we get to go to the room."

She grinned, forced herself not to blush in front of the woman with damaged nylons, "Well then, better get a move on."

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"Isaac," Alex raised her brow, "I suggest you go back to your desk and get a pencil."

"But, Aunt Al- um, Mrs. Grey… I don't like the pencil."

"Just get it stupid! It's carpet time!" Jordan snapped and pushed up his glasses on his pudgy nose.

"Jordan," Alex raised her brows, "you may go into time out for name calling."

"Ah, but, Mrs. Grey, he's so stupid. He just sit's there and cries like a girl!"

Enraged, Isaac slapped his hand over his desk, growled low and ran to the sandy blond boy with hazel eyes and lunged to punch him, "Absolutely, not!" Alex stood between them, "You," she pointed to Jordan, "Time out. Now. And you, Isaac, over in that one," she said pointing to the second identical corner with low hanging shelving.

"No, please!" Isaac pleaded, "Please, Aunt Alex. No."

"Move it," she said firmly and looked over her glasses, "now, and your recess is mine young man."

"Bu-"

"Want to work on your lunch recess as well?"

Isaac groaned, looked at the time out area and sobbed as he slowly walked himself to it and sat in the chair. His world getting small and smaller.

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"Liv!" Elliot laughed as his head bounced off of the wall, "that hurt."

She grinned, kissed his mouth softly, "Sorry," she whispered and nipped at his lower lip, her hand cupping him softly through his pants, "I didn't like that doctor."

He smiled, "Jealous?"

She let out a small laugh as she began to unbutton his shirt, "She wanted you… I saw the way she looked at you."

"Liv that's not-"

"It's true… you're mine and she wanted you," she whispered, bit harder on his bottom lip and sucked softly when he gasped, "you're mine."

His smiled was all sex as he rubbed her back softly, "What are you gonna do about it?"

She arched her brow, smirked and stepped back slowly. She dug into her front pocket pulled out a small tin and smiled, "I picked these up after I left Isaac-"

"He made it today?"

Olivia grinned, "I stayed with him all day… I snuck out when he started to finger paint, he seemed happy. Alex called said he was doing fine… now, will you shut up?"

He waggled his brows, "You gonna help me fill that cup?"

"Can't do it without me?"

"No."

"Not even with this abundance of porn?" she asked nodding to the small collection in the corner of the sterile facility.

He slipped his hand up her shirt slowly and narrowed his eyes down at her, smiling softly when he reached the curve of her breast, "That's nasty, Liv… you're the only one that does it for me. You know that."

She grinned, "Yeah, I know… I like knowing it. Why'd the doctor make you nervous?" she whispered and unbuckled his belt with her free hand as the other held the small tin in her hand.

He moaned as her fingertips brushed against his skin while she slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, "Liv… why'd you buy those?"

"I like Altoids."

"No you don't… I've never seen you use them."

She grinned broadly, kissed his lips softly and dragged her mouth along his jaw, down his neck, "Why don't you help me out and put one in my mouth? My hand is otherwise occupied."

He looked down at her and smiled, taking the tin of mints and opening it, placing a white tablet into his own mouth and immediately attacking her mouth with his lips, his hand cupping the back of her head. She moaned as his tongue pushed the peppermint tablet past her lips. She immediately pushed his pants past his hips, laughing against his mouth as the sound of his belt hitting the floor made his erection twitch in her hand. "Liv-" he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. The taste of her mouth, the feel of her hands, already making him one happy individual.

"Think that doctor would use an Altoid, El?" she asked lowly and kissed his lips, blowing softly on the moisture that formed in the seem.

"For what?" he asked licking his bottom lip as she opened his shirt, kissed his chest, his nipple and continued to move lower.

"I think you know what, Elliot," she smiled over his belly button as she lowered to her knees, her hands resting on his hips.

He groaned at the very thought of her mouth over him. The coolness, the change of temperature, "Please." His voice was painfully tight.

"Please what?" she whispered, bending forward and blowing softly again on the tip of his length before kissing him gently.

Reflexively, he moaned, tangled his hand in her hair, "Liv, please," he tightened his fist around her hair, "Please, right now. Right here."

Slowly, she ran the tip of her tongue around the head of his penis, "There's people in the waiting area, Elliot… doctors and nurses walking by."

She was teasing him. Making him beg. Olivia was making Elliot beg to have her mouth on him. How much better could life get?

"Liv. Baby, please… right now."

She licked her lips, felt the cool of the mint spreading. She tucked the gum in her cheek and slowly took him into her mouth. He let out a small shriek, panted already out of control as he thrust carefully into her mouth. She raked her nails along his thigh with one hand, moved her palm around the base of his shaft as her mouth occupied the remaining sensitive skin.

She felt his legs weaken, splayed her hand up and over his chest as she allowed her mouth to give more pleasure, she felt him grow even harder, felt his body shake and begin to stiffen, "Liv… Liv, cup."

She grinned, released him softly and handed him the cup, careful to take full control of his lips, her hands locked at the back of his neck and his tended to unfinished business. He groaned, his body jerking as his chest heaved with his release. She pulled away, panting. He swallowed hard, exhaled slowly and smiled, "We should buy Altoids. We should invest."

"Good?"

"You have no idea."

She laughed, "Enjoyed yourself?"

He kissed her again, "Yeah… I could give you an idea tonight, you know? Save me one of those, and you'll know exactly what I'm talking about."

She grinned, "Deal… you ready? We've got to pick the kids up."

He licked his lips and nodded, "Give me a second, I'm a mess."

She looked down, grinned, "Take care of your 'sample'," she whispered and ran the sink's water to warm. She used the paper towels, held them under the stream and as soon as he turned back, she immediately took him into another kiss, felt his body flinch and then relax as soon as the warmth caressed him.

She pulled back, rested her forehead against his and waited for him to open his eyes, "How long until we'll know? Did she say?" she whispered.

He exhaled, "A week to ten days."

She nodded, kissed him softly again.

Ten days until disaster.


	5. New Things

Silver Lining

Chapter 5: New Things

A/N: This is cut really short, there is actually another forty pages or so to it. Should be up close to this one.

"Texas Chainsaw Massacre?" Olivia groaned and tossed the DVD back onto the counter top. "Casey, didn't we see that already?"

Casey Novak grinned from the kitchen sink, the soap suds caressing her forearms as she finished what appeared to be the last plate she had used to make Addison and Paul dinner. She would go without and wait for the ladies to show. So far, Olivia had occupied her nervous energy on dissecting the DVD choices and Chloe stopped by, puked and then sheepishly went home. The flu was the pits. The only person left unaccounted for was Alex who was probably tied up in bed… literally, if they didn't know any better. "That's Texas Chainsaw Massacre _The Beginning_… totally different from Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

Olivia smirked, "You're a lunatic."

"Maybe… but tonight, I'll play the scared and terrified damsel and have really great sex with Paul."

Olivia laughed, ran her hand through her hair and shook her head, "A real lunatic, Casey."

"Ah," Casey arched her brows and wiped her hands on a dish towel before leaning over the counter to talk to her friend, "A lunatic that is gonna have an orgasm tonight. Two if I'm extra scared and three if I play it just right."

Olivia laughed harder, felt the tears begin to stream her face and her skin grow red, much like the red Casey's skin had been eight days ago when they attempted to watch the kids while Elliot and Olivia grabbed some alone time.

Isaac wasn't having it and he still wasn't having the fact that Olivia was not at home with him. As if her entire life revolved around him and the rest of the family. Okay- so it did, but even Olivia, _especially_ Olivia, needed some time alone.

Specifically when her husband paces the house like a caged animal as he waits impatiently for a piece of paper to come in the mail that tells him he can or can't have children. A piece of paper that tells her if she will endure his storm or his caress.

She knows it's the storm. It's always the storm.

She especially needs a break, a time with only the closet circle of female friends, when her thirteen year old son is going nuts now that there is an established date for Crystal's surgery. She and Elliot love Crystal like their own daughter and they are more than happy that Sam and she are the best of friends and as much as she wants to tell Sam that Crystal absolutely needs the surgery, that it is the best thing that can happen to her, she never will, not when he is so adamant that she is already beautiful.

The amazing thing about being blind is that the only thing you can see is the inner beauty of someone and that is one thing she has learned from Sam. However, she knows that inner beauty cannot withstand the taunts of peers, the stares of strangers and the curious glances that Sam will never witness but that Olivia and Elliot have lost count of since Crystal and Sam have become so close.

She especially needs a break when her five year old son has not had a civil moment for the last two weeks. When she gets her morning work outs, not from sparring or hitting the gym that she and Elliot own, no, it's usually fighting with Isaac to get him dressed, in the car and off to school, where apparently she should enroll because she has been in that kindergarten room right along with her son for eight days. His room has literally been emptied of all toys before he could do more damage to them and Sam has refused to sleep there, opting for the couch and citing that it is less noisy.

Any place is less noisy when you don't wake up to a crying five-year-old and fall asleep to his same piercing scream.

The launch pad of a rocket is probably quieter than the distress call of her son.

She especially needs a break when her two three-year-olds have just learned the fine art of being up to no good… twenty-four hours a day. Hannah, who has been caught filling the bathtub with water to let Kermit 'stretch' his legs and 'have fun', has served more than her average share of time outs. Abundantly more.

And then there is Solomon who refuses to tell anyone the name of his snake. Absolutely refuses and as much as she tells Elliot that it is not because he witnessed his sister get shut down when she picked her frog's name, Olivia knows that is exactly why he won't state the name of the scaly beast that she knows will one day get out of the cage and slither into bed with her, or make it's way into her shoe or closet or hamper or wherever else the little should-be-wallet could hide to scare the crap out of her.

Yes, she's a devoted mother and wife.

Who needs one night away.

And as much as she needs one night away as much as she needs to connect with her closet friends and nurture those relationships, she wants nothing more than to tell Casey that she feels ill so that she can go home to Sam who is nervous and on the phone with Crystal nightly, reassuring her of her beauty and her grace. She wants to be home with Isaac so she can be there when he wakes up terrified, again, because she knows he is going to and when he does he will be even more scared because she is out having a good time while he can barely hold his dinner in his belly.

She looks at the DVD on the counter top, knows that Casey won't be the only one having sex tonight, she'll come home, wound up from a horror flick, she'll check on her babies and she'll slip into bed next to her husband, next to her lover. He'll pull her close, nuzzle her and ask her how her night went. She'll tell him Casey managed to pick the movies again. He'll smirk against her hair, pull her tight and let his hand drift down her body. In a matter of minutes they'll be making love.

Olivia looked at the clock, vaguely aware that Casey has left the kitchen to answer the door, she looked back at the DVD, noticed there are other's in the pile, The Butterfly Effect, The Bone Collector.

Sometimes, Casey is twisted.

Olivia exhaled, as much as she needs this one night away she is struggling to not tell Casey that she needs to be home. That she needs to be with Solomon to tell him that he's amazing and that she missed him. She wants to be there when he wakes up at exactly one O'clock in the morning like he does every night to ask her to take him to the potty because it's extra scary to go potty in the night time.

But more than all of that, she wants to be home with Elliot. She wants to curl up on the couch with him after all of the children are put to sleep and she wants to talk with him, she wants to tell him that Aimee and Carp have invited them over for dinner on Tuesday and that she thinks Chloe is pregnant and that she thinks Alex called them this morning while she was having sex with Robert… again.

She wants to feel his hand resting softly on the curve of her hip, she wants to feel the heat of his body against hers and she wants to smell him as he holds her flush against him. She wants to be home and she wants to-

"Hello!" Alex's voice ripped through her thoughts.

Olivia blinked rapidly and grinned, "I'm sorry."

"Geeze, I'm expecting a hug or something and your off in a whole different land," Alex smiled and closed the gap between them as the two women embraced warmly, "Isaac had a lovely day today, didn't he?"

"Loving the sarcasm, Alex," Olivia groaned and hugged her tighter, "Thanks for not giving up on him."

Alex separated and lifted her chin towards the countertop, "I brought pizza… oh," she winced, "and I see Casey picked the movies."

Olivia smiled, "That she did."

"Hey!" Casey picked a Junior Mint from a candy bowl and popped it into her mouth like an eight year old boy would, "it's better than Strictly Ballroom… Olivia, where did you find that crap, anyway?"

"That was a great movie!" Olivia's eyes went wide, "That was the epitome of great."

"No," Casey shook her head and held up the DVD case, "seeing a chainsaw rip a body in half is great."

"You're fantastically insane, you know that, right, Casey?" Alex smirked and took a few of the chocolate mints, "Looks like, Olivia here was day dreaming when I came in… probably thinking of Elliot and what they might be doing right now if she weren't stuck watching horror flicks," Alex teased.

Olivia followed the crowed, took her own chocolates and popped them one at a time into her mouth, "I was in fact thinking about all of the men in my family and a certain little girl."

"Right," Casey waggled her brows, "but when you thought specifically of Elliot, you thought of sex didn't you?"

Olivia quickly ducked her head and grinned, "Shut up, Casey."

"Seems your sex shrink is doing well for you and Elliot, huh, Olivia?" Alex teased, "I mean, you probably think about sex more than Casey and I… combined."

Olivia raised her head and licked her lips, "That's impossible, Alex, seeing as you alone think of sex every three seconds."

"Two… get your facts straight, Olivia," Casey smirked and opened the pizza box, "Ah, Alex, bellpepper?"

"I know you hate it," Alex smiled, "so I asked for extra."

Casey rolled her eyes playfully, "Paul hates it when I kiss him and I taste like bellpepper."

"What do I hate?" Paul asked with Addison on his shoulders, beaming happily at his mother.

"Mommy!"

"Hey!" Casey grinned and held out her arms taking him from Paul and hugging him tight, "Are you excited about going out with daddy?"

"Yeah!" he grinned, his bottom lip full just like his mother's, his teeth straight and exact just like his fathers, "I'na go see 'da boobs!"

All three women raised their brow and turned to look at Paul, "Totally not what you think."

Casey kissed her son's chubby cheek, "Your father has some explaining to do."

"The boob tube, Casey… he wanted to go see a cartoon-"

"He wanted to or you wanted to," Alex teased.

Olivia slipped off the bar stool seat and grabbed the pizza box, "I'd rather see a cartoon than a massacre any day of the week."

"Yeah, well you're stuck with me," Casey smiled and lowered Addison to the ground, "no, sweets, understand?" 

"Mommy!" His large eyes went wide, "But, daddy said I could have them… I get'em?"

Casey smiled softly and ran her finger along his cheek, "Yeah, you get them."

Olivia grinned seeing the complete happiness exude from Casey as Paul picked Addison up into his strong arms and Casey ran her slender fingertips over her son's belly, whispering things a mother would when her son is leaving her sight. Whispering things she didn't get to tell Isaac the day he was taken from her.

Be a good boy. I love you.

Olivia placed the pizza box on the coffee table and kneeled onto the couch, looking over the back of it as Paul prepared to leave. Casey wrapped her hand around his waist a smile growing larger by the second.

"Those two make me want to vomit," Alex smiled and flopped next to Olivia.

"Oh, yeah," Olivia smirked and took another bite of her pizza, "because you and Robert don't have sex eight days out of the week."

Alex snagged the pizza from Olivia's hand and took a bite of it as she smiled, "Yeah, well, if I have to see Elliot try and get into your pants one more time while you're cooking or washing the dishes… I'm calling the health department on you."

Olivia chuckled and then crinkled her nose as Casey and Paul engaged in a heated lip lock, their son still in his arms, "Well," Olivia exhaled and turned around to give them their privacy, "I guess it's just us and Leatherface, huh?"

Alex groaned, "I'd rather be at home."

"Yeah?" Olivia buried the back of her head into the sofa vaguely aware that Casey and Paul were discussing something and the front door had opened, "Doing what?" Olivia teased, "What's better than watching some lunatic run after people with a chainsaw?"

"Being tied up by my husband."

Olivia's jaw went slack, her brown eyes growing large, "Really?"

"Oh yeah… much better."

Olivia chewed slowly, "Huh."

"What's with her?" Casey asked finally returning to the conversation as she wedged her body between the two and grabbed a slice, "Why does it look like Olivia is in deep thought. No good ever comes of that."

Olivia furrowed her brows and slowly swallowed her masticated food, "Tied up? Like on the bed?"

"Uh oh," Casey's brows raised, "looks like I missed a chapter."

"Yeah, on the bed," Alex shrugged and handed the DVD to Casey who tossed the pizza slice back into the box and stood to insert the disc, "where else would I- oh, now that you mention it, I bet it would be pretty hot to be tied up on a kitchen chair or something-"

"Alex," Casey's voice grew serious when the look on Olivia's face registered both fear and curiosity, "come on. Stop."

"Stop?" Alex furrowed her brow and looked at Casey then back to Olivia, "What's wrong, what did I- Oh, crap. Olivia, I'm sorry. I wasn't making light of-"

"Is it good?" Olivia asked as if suddenly having thought of the question.

"Is what good?" Alex replied as Casey split her attention between remote controls and the conversation.

"Being tied up… it doesn't bother you?"

"Only if the rope is too tight," Alex smirked and leaned back against the sofa's arm. "What's with the face?"

"What face?" Olivia picked at her slice of pizza and moved an olive to the extreme edge of the pizza crust.

"Olivia?" Casey exhaled and sat between them both, "You okay?"

"Guys," Olivia smiled genuine, "I'm fine… I was just curious."

"Curious?" Casey cocked a brow and propped up her feet on the coffee table, "You looking to get kinky with Elliot?"

Olivia grabbed the throw pillow and swung it at her with a laugh, "Shut up, Casey!"

Alex grinned, pulling her legs up to her chest, "You are! Olivia Stabler is awakening her inner-kink!"

"No!" Olivia groaned and plopped back into the couch wishing it would swallow her, "No… I don't… I don't think I could. I was just wondering if I was missing something was all."

Alex slipped her glasses up along the ridge of her nose and smiled, "You're definitely missing something, isn't she Casey? By, the way Case, how did those silk binds work for you?"

Olivia's eyes were the size of Texas, her mouth agape as she stared at Casey, "You let him tie you up?" she hissed through a curious smile, "You never told me that!"

Casey ducked her head, "I uh… didn't want to… well, I didn't want you to re…member anything."

Olivia smiled softly and leaned back, "Is it good?"

Both women raised their brows and looked at her, "You really curious?" Alex asked in surprise.

Olivia pursed her lips and pulled them to the right of her mouth before chewing her bottom lip, "Um… I don't know… yeah."

"Really?" Both women leaned into the conversation and looked intently at Olivia.

"Way to make me comfortable, guys," Olivia groaned, "never mind. Just, let's watch a chainsaw rip someone's guts out."

"Wait," Casey smiled. "Come on, Olivia… why the sudden curiosity in bondage? I mean, don't take this wrong, but we never really talked about it because we didn't think that being tied up was something you wanted. Not after-"

"I'm not saying it is," Olivia exhaled and picked at the pillow in her lap. "I was just curious."

"I think you should try it, Olivia," Alex said nodding her head sharply, "I think that you should take that step… get over another fear."

"I'm not scared," Olivia protested then deflated, "okay, maybe a little."

"Elliot's never asked you?" Casey inquired.

"No."

"But, you want to ask Elliot?" Alex smirked.

Olivia took a deep breath and licked her lips, "I think I bore him."

Casey laughed out loud, "Please! That man has to hide his crotch every time he sees you!"

"Casey!" Alex dropped her jaw, "Could you possibly be more blunt?"

Casey shrugged, "Sure. Elliot would nail her with the Dali Lama standing three feet away… and he'd enjoy every second of it. Olivia, I hardly think you bore him."

She exhaled, picked at her slice of pizza again, "I think I do."

"Na," Alex grinned, "you two are two of the horniest people I've ever seen."

"I'll second that," Casey grinned then quickly grew serious when Olivia's countenance hadn't changed, "Olivia?"

"Can we watch the movie?" Olivia said softly and exhaled, "I don't want to talk about it anymore… I've got too much to deal with right now."

"Isaac still Isaac?" Casey asked softly and passed her a bottle of water.

"Yeah… he's loosing his mind and taking mine right along with it."

"How's Sam?" Alex asked positioning the pillows of the couch behind her before refocusing on Olivia.

"I'm surprised Crystal hasn't punched his lights out," Olivia smirked and shook her head, "he is so pissed off that she is having this surgery to fix the scar on her face… I keep trying to explain that it's for the best, but…" she exhaled and ran her hands though her hair. "It use to be so easy… they cry and you scoop them up and you rock them and hold them and now… Sam is as tall as me, he took his father down a few weeks ago-"

"What?" Casey's eyes widened, "Sam tackled Elliot?"

Olivia raised his brows, "Yep. Put Elliot right on his back."

"Wow... they work it out?"

"Mmmm, Sam is a little bent out of shape still, but they hugged right after it happened, I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Alright!" Alex interrupted, "this is supposed to be a fun night, let's have fun."

Olivia arched her brows, "With Leather Face? Bring it on."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's the one thing she loves more than anything else in the world. To walk through the threshold of their home and have the sent of her family tickle her nose. That sweet, soft scent that tells only her what has happened during the day. Elliot has done laundry while she was gone. Sam managed to talk his dad into pizza again and dessert was more than likely cherry pie with chocolate ice cream to appease all pallets. How Elliot is the only one that isn't completely fascinated with cherry is beyond her, but the fact that he'll normally sacrifice his desires for hers is something sexy.

Olivia toes off her sneakers and lets them rest just outside of the closet door. Four kids and a husband have finally taught her to loosen up on a few things in life although the house does stay clean at all cost, it is a precaution, mostly for Sam. Olivia places her cell phone on the charger in the hallway and stills the moment she hears a sniffle. Her brain immediately searches for the source and within a split second she identifies it as Isaac.

Her body cringes. How can he possibly be this upset over school that he has cried this much? This many days? She exhales softly and walks into the living room, past the couch and is surprised and endeared to see Elliot asleep on the sofa, their five-year-old boy held tightly in his arms, blue eyes big with watery tears.

She checked her watched, wondered how long they'd been here on the couch. Friday night, kids would be in bed by ten, it's now two O'clock in the morning. She put her money on them falling asleep together and Isaac having a nightmare.

"Hey, baby boy," Olivia whispered through a soft smile.

Isaac blinked his eyes and looked at his mother. His face crumbling instantly the moment he saw her. His tiny chest heaving as he reached his arms over his father's and out to her.

"Hey," she said compassionately, "you're okay," she assured him and gently extracted him from Elliot, felt his desperate arms hold tight to her neck as his wet cheek made it's way to her shoulder.

"Scary."

"What is sweetie?" she asked and rubbed his back as she walked him to his room, "Hmmm? You can tell me."

"Small."

She furrowed her brow and quietly made her way into the boys' room, "What's small, honey?" she asked as she lowered them both into the rocking chair and rocked him softly, the only sound in the room was the rapid breathing of Isaac and the rhythmic breathing of a sleeping Sam in the next bed.

He sniffled, sat back on his bottom as he faced her, "Shower."

"The shower is small?" she smiled and cupped the back of his head, bringing him to her lips for a kiss, "mmm, you certainly did take a shower tonight, didn't you? You smell so good, I could eat you up."

He gave her a sloppy half smile then let it fall as he started to cry again, "I wet my pants."

She hugged him tighter, rubbed his back, "Did you get in trouble?"

"No… Sammy said everyone wets their pants, even dad and he was a cop."

She rocked him gently as the pale light of the moon snuck into the room, highlighting them as she held him, "That's true… everyone has accidents baby. Your little bladder is learning how to hold it, is all."

"I didn't have to go, but then it was small, I went," he confessed softly and exhaled a shuddery breath, "Sorry, Mommy."

She kissed the crown of his head and smiled softly, "Don't be."

"Daddy mad?" he asked after a few silent seconds.

Not that she knew what exactly had went on she took a guess, "No, honey, Dad isn't mad at you. Why would he be?"

He sniffled, buried his head deeper into her body and sighed, "He made me take a shower."

"Cause you had an accident?"

"Yeah… I told him, it's too small and he said it's been the same forever and then… I hit him with my ducky so I could get out, but he got me and made me be in the shower."

She smiled softly at the image of Elliot being clobbered by their five-year-old with the rubber ducky she'd bought when they first got Isaac back, "I'm glad you smell so good right now. That's why daddy had you take a shower, he knew I'd want you cleaned up and he knew that you'd want to be cleaned up too."

He yawned against her, "I want to be with you, mom. All the time."

She rubbed his back in soothing circles, "I want to be with you too, honey, but there are some things that have to be done and school is one of them."

He growled and exhaled, "I don't like it!"

"I know you don't, honey… but why?"

"It's small! I tell you everyday it's small!" he sobbed and gave his body over to his tears, against his mother, the only person he wanted to be with. All the time.

And couldn't.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia sunk down in the recliner opposite the sofa that Elliot lay still asleep on his side. She watched him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the slight smile on his face. A smile? Just what is he dreaming about? She grinned, pulled her legs up under her and propped her elbow on the arm of the recliner only to hold her chin in the palm of her hand and watch his smile grow larger.

Her brows shot up, as a small moan came from deep in his chest, rumbled up and out of his throat and he turned immediately onto his back. His breathing faster. She smiled as the tent in his sweats peaked higher and his smile grew just a little more.

Another moan and then his arms rose and rested, stretched out above his head, his hands limply hanging over the arm rest. He was completely stretched out on their sofa and even in a t-shirt and sweats was driving her crazy.

Her intent had been to wake him up and talk to him, get some type of game plan going for Isaac who, cried for an hour in her arms before finally crashing and was tucked tightly into bed as Zeus made his way to curl up next to the youngster.

Her intent, even after seeing the tent in his sweats, was still to wake him up, but when his arms stretched over his body and hung over the sofa, when his smile grew, she suddenly pictured him laying under her, her body straddling his as she… tied him up? No. No that can't be correct.

Yet, it was.

She furrowed her brows and continued to watch him in this clearly illicit dream that she knew without a doubt was about her. They're always about her and just knowing that makes her blush hot. She hears another moan come from him and she bites her bottom lip as his hips, almost imperceptibly rise off of the cushions of the couch.

And that was all she needed to see.

Her smile was all mischief as she quietly made her way to him and gently covered his body with her own. His hands instantly resting on her bottom and pulling her close to him in his sleep. She smiled feeling the strength of his erection against her as she kissed his neck and made her way to his ear, "Hey," she whispered softly, "dreamin' about me?"

His only reply was pulling her closer to him, his large hands splayed possessively over her bottom, kneading and grazing and laying claim.

She grinned, kissed his cheek and then his lips softly, before tracing them with her tongue and sipping tenderly from the bottom one. He moaned into her mouth and his lips instantly separated. Yeah, he was up… in more ways than one.

"Hi," he whispered groggily, "where's my boy?"

"Sleep," she smiled softly, "hard night?" she waggled her brows and pressed further into his erection.

He grinned, "Pun?"

"Completely intended… hard night?"

"Yeah… he had an accident."

"I heard."

"Shower made it worse."

"Also heard that."

"He worries me."

She nodded, tracing his lip with her finger, "Me too…Solomon confess his snake's name?"

"No," Elliot grinned, "But uh," he thrust softly against her body, "want to see my snake?"

She stared directly down at him, "What were you dreaming about?"

"You… always you."

"I know… but, what was I doing?"

"Being naughty… definitely time-out worthy."

She grinned, "Dork."

"Take those jeans off and I'm sure that's not what you'll be saying… or moaning."

"You want these jeans off?" she grinned and stood, "come and get them off."

He pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled, "Let's stay out here… I like couch sex."

She grinned, "I know you do, but with the boys' sleeping schedules, or lack thereof, probably not the best idea… well, I'm waiting if you're coming," she said and simply walked away.

He looked down at his throbbing erection, "Definitely coming," he groaned and quickly made his way to the bedroom bypassing her, and heading for the shower.

"Hey!" she said in shock, "I thought-"

"I need a cool shower… or it'll be too quick," he laughed and closed the door. The water was on in seconds and suddenly a yelp from him that let her know, he really was taking a freezing shower to control himself.

She grinned. Such an ego stroke to make your husband want you even in his dreams.

She strips and slips between the cool of the sheets, instantly balling her body to warm faster but within seconds of doing so, she knows she's made a mistake. He is taking too long in the shower and she is exhausted and dozing.

Vaguely, after several minutes she hears the door open and seconds later, she gasps feeling the extreme chill of his body spoon against hers. She takes in a deep breath, her nipples instantly harden in the privacy of their room and she hears his small sexy laugh from behind her, "Sorry."

She smiles, he's so exhausted too that she can hear it in his voice. "S'okay," she mumbles and feels his still cool hand caress her leg and bring it over his thigh, "Elliot?" she's not shaking, she's not scared or even turned on, but there is something in her voice he can't place. Something so scary he instantly feels himself decrease.

"Yeah?"

"Tie me up."

And just like that it's a searing heat wave under the covers. Like some sort of spontaneous combustion, she can feel the nervous heat radiate from him like an atomic bomb and while she is half asleep and half awake, she knows exactly what she said and she knows from his reaction she shouldn't have.

Oh, boy.

"What?"

"N-nothing, I'm sorry. I'm so exhausted," she said and brought her leg back to her, "I'm so tired, I'm just saying stuff."

He furrowed his brows, suddenly wide awake, "No… you knew what you were saying. What-where- have you been- are you bored?"

"No," she exhaled and scooted away, "Just, no. Good night."

"Hey," he whispered and pulled her back to him, "come here. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Uh… Liv, maybe you weren't here, but you just asked me to tie you up… there's a whole lot to talk about, and you know it."

She exhaled "Casey and Alex have done it. Did you know that?"

He smiled softly, his hand tracing her abdomen, "I wouldn't put it past those two."

"Chloe and Aimee and Warner."

His brows raised, "You taking a poll?"

She elbowed him in frustration and scooted away, "Shut up, Elliot."

He grinned and scooted back to her, pulling her frustrated and reluctant self back to him, "Olivia, I'm not teasing you-"

She opened her mouth to say otherwise and he laughed softly.

"Okay, maybe I was having a little tease, but… I'm just… a little confused. I didn't think that was something you've ever wanted. I mean, our rules are pretty cut and dry and that's always been one of them, just like no porn."

She exhaled, "I know… I'm sorry I brought it up."

"No. Don't be," he said earnestly, "Don't be… that's growth, Liv. I mean, you've grown so much since we've been married and now this… that's amazing, but… don't you think we should talk to Viv first? Or at least we should call Casey or Alex and have sex on the phone while we talk to them.?" he laughed softly, "you know? Baby steps."

She chuckled "You're disgusting."

He exhaled, let his fingers creep higher to the curve of her breast, "I love you, Liv… I don't want to do anything that could hurt you, that's all."

She let her eyes fall closed and exhaled "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, we'll talk about it at Viv's next week, huh?"

"I'm going to that stupid conference next week," she groaned and pushed his hand away, "I need some sleep."

He exhaled, kissed her shoulder gently and pulled her closer to her, his arms around her entire body, "I love you."

She felt a tear slip out from under her lids and couldn't assign an emotion to it, "I know you do."

He pulled her hair back and exposed the column of her neck, "Let me show you, Liv?"

She sniffled, turned in his embrace and felt the tip of his erection against her thigh, "Do you think I'm weird for wanting to try it?"

He grinned, "No… I think it's pretty hot, but…" he exhaled, his smile faltered, "there's no way I ever want to go through something like the night in the bath tub. No way."

She nodded, "I'm sorry that happened."

Elliot grazed her cheek and rolled her to her back, a small kiss before his lips rested at her ear "No more, I'm sorry, Liv… let me love you," he whispered as he settled between her thighs, "Let me."

She sniffled, could not for the life of her figure out why her emotions were all over the place, surely it had nothing to do with Isaac's current disposition or the fact that Crystal was having surgery in three days and Sam was livid. Surely it had nothing to do with exposing herself in such a way that could be humiliating and it was. It surely couldn't have anything to do with the fact that she didn't want to leave them for a week to go to a conference and she most definitely did not want to deal with the results of Elliot's test.

Not when she knew deep down what it would say.

What it always said.

He pushed into her and she let out a sob, her neck arching as he hands rested limply around his neck, her legs opening wider for him. His mouth on hers as he continued to push into her and then hold still, his lips grazing her neck, her lips, his nose nuzzling hers adorningly, "I love you, Olivia."

She opened her glassy eyes and raised slightly to kiss him, "I love you, too," she whispered against his mouth, "move. Please."

He grinned and moved slowly as she laid back, eyes closed once again and a small content smile about her face as he massaged her breast before resting both hands at her hips and pulling her deeper into him.

She balled the sheets and moaned as he thrust and then she surprised him with uncommon movement. His eyes widened as she twisted her body and reached…

For the phone.

Holy crap.

He stared at her, "What are you doing?"

She grinned slyly, "I think I left my purse at Casey's… I'll have to call her."

His eyes grew wide with shock, "Right now?" he motioned to their current state.

She wrapped one leg around him, pulled him closer to her, "Yeah, right now," she said so coated in sex he nearly came inside of her body right then. "They do it to us all the time."

"Yeah, but we usually call them… it's not like they call us-"

"Elliot," she smirked and started to dial, "shut up."

He continued to stare at her, his erection was throbbing from just the anticipation of what she was doing and then he heard it.

The phone was ringing.

His hips took over. The mere thought that Olivia was being this bad, for no particular reason was sending him out of control. She gasped against the phone as he moved and then someone picked up, he knew because she grinned and locked eyes with him.

"You better be dead," Casey groaned into the phone. "It's the middle of the night."

Olivia bit her bottom lip, and rolled them so she was on top, "I thought you'd be having insane sex after the massacre," Olivia said and moved slowly over the top of him.

"No, Addison came back with a tummy ache, he ralphed every where…"

Olivia really couldn't care any less about why they weren't having sex. She smiled, let her head fall back as she held the phone and continued to move, continued to swallow her moans as Elliot dug his hands into her hips and moved her over his body.

Quiet sex was hard.

They've tried quiet before, but they both know that Olivia can never truly be quiet, not when he pushes himself up and wraps his arms around her waist, ducking his head to her breast and taking her nipple into her mouth.

"Olivia?" Casey's voice was somewhere between curiosity and concern.

Olivia bites her lip, holds the phone to her chest and cradles the back of his head, pushing him against her. Holding him in place, begging him not to stop but trying desperately to keep her moans silent.

The whole phone thing? Maybe not a good idea.

"Olivia!"

"Yeah?" Olivia gasped and pulled the phone back to her ear as Elliot thrust into her body, still sucking and enjoying every minute of this encounter. Enjoying the fact that Olivia was going to get caught because there was no way she was gonna be able to get quiet. Not when he added his thumb to the mix.

And he did.

Olivia's hand instantly tangled into his long hair, pulled him back and away from her tender breast and gasped into the phone, "Elliot!"

"Elliot?" Casey's voice came through the receiver and then sudden realization, "Olivia! Olivia get on the phone! Are you-are you having sex while you're talking to me?"

Elliot groaned peering up at her, her fingers still clutching his hair and pulling before she released and dropped her head forward, he slid his finger over her core once more and she moaned, forgot about the telephone until she heard Casey's voice.

"Hang up the damn phone!" Casey laughed, "You horny freaks!"

He rolled her to her back, slid as deep as possible into her. He confused her body in ways that made her numb and hyper sensitive at the same time. She heard Casey's laughing demands, her threats to three-way a call to Alex, but had no idea what to do to stop it.

Elliot moved over her, his body pulsing inside of her own as she widened the cradle of her thighs and took him even deeper, her moan, his groan and Casey's laugh through the receiver. Olivia raised her hands, phone still being held simply because she was too focused on the feeling of Elliot moving over her that she didn't know what to do with it and couldn't care less if someone was on the other line or not. They were capable of pushing the mute button, were they not?

Elliot smiled up at her, her eyes heavy with want and sex and boldness that he hadn't seen from her in a while. He nipped at her breast, chuckled when she gasped and he ran his hand along her rib, up over the warmth of her breast, along the tender skin of her bicep leaving goose bumps in his wake until he reached her hand, covered the off button to the phone with his finger and smiled down at her

He pulled out slowly, felt her body grip and reach for him, try to force him to stay within her. He smirked, kissed her mouth softly and in one swift thrust buried himself inside of her hitting her cervix.

She cried out and he pushed the button, casting the phone to the floor as her hands griped his chest, her back arched, eyes closed, "Elliot!"

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Please more," she panted and locked her legs around his body, "please. I need to-"

"Shhh," he whispered into her ear and moved slowly again until her body stiffened and her groan pushed through clenched teeth, her hands scraping his skin. He laughed as her foot pushed her to the head of the bed and he simply followed and continued his pace.

"El-"

He pushed again and held his place as she panted and groaned through her orgasm sending him into oblivion right along with her. He breathed over her, her body still rigid, still milking him, still clenching him as her legs continued to hold him.

"Casey is gonna tease you mercilessly."

Her body softened, her breath still quick, "Don't care," she whispered and drug her hands over his sweaty back, "Absolutely, do not care."

He grinned, pushed himself up on his forearms and kissed her mouth, "That was hot, Liv… wasn't expecting that."

She smiled, raised her head and kissed him softly, "I want to try some new things, Elliot… you've got to trust me that I know what I want, that I know when I'm ready… that I'm confident enough to try, now."

He nodded softly, kissed her lips, "I trust you," he whispered and slipped from her body. "I trust you… I just… I don't want to hurt you."

She smiled softly and ran her hand over his beard, "You could never hurt me on purpose-"

"It's the accident I'm scared of… I don't want to hurt you, Liv. Even if you feel like you can do this on your own… I-I want to talk to Vivian."

She nodded softly, kissed him again, "Okay."


	6. Disaster

Silver Lining

Chapter 6: Disaster

A/N At last the author was dug out of the monumental mound of paperwork she'd been buried under for the past month.

Disaster comes in all shapes and sizes. This afternoon it comes in the form of an upset thirteen year old boy who is walking to the SUV that is always in the same place at the same time.

"Where's Isaac and the monsters?" Sam asked sadly as he slowly slid into the SUV.

Olivia smiled softly and turned in the seat to see him, "Dad picked up Isaac early from school-"

"Still hatin' it, huh?" Sam exhaled and leaned his head against the window, "maybe I'll have a talk with him. Where are the monsters?"

"At the gym. Your dad had a client." Olivia reached out, ran her hand through his shaggy hair, "You don't have to pretend that you're not upset."

He pulled his head away and slouched down, his brow furrowing, "I'm not upset. She wants to have surgery so she'll look better and have all the friends in the world, whatever. Fine. Be my guest. She can bug off for all I care."

Olivia exhaled, rested her head on the headrest and pulled in her lips before speaking, "She loves you."

"Whatever."

"You're being a jerk."

"It's the Wilson in me."

"Stop!" she commanded firmly. "Don't. You. Dare!"

He exhaled, rubbed his temple with his fingertips, "I'm sorry."

"You're not a Wilson, you're a Stabler and that's a twenty-four hour job, you got me?"

He sniffled and shook his head, "Mom? I don't know what's happening to me."

She furrowed her brows and turned so she was completely facing him, "What do you mean?" she asked, softening her voice, "Tell me. I'd like to know, honey."

He shook his head, "I'm angry all the time, Mom. So angry… I don't know what's happening to me."

"Honey, you're thirteen… things are gonna-"

"All the time, Mom… for stupid stuff. I'm just angry, and I do the stuff that Mags tells me and sometimes it works, but sometimes… most of the time, it doesn't," he bit his bottom lip and tilted his head like he wanted to say something then stopped.

"Sam," Olivia said softly, "you use to hate to talk, and look at you now. I don't have to drag it out of you anymore, that's a good thing, honey… things take time. Anger takes time, and you have good reason to feel anger. I'll never tell you that you shouldn't… what were you going to say? Its okay, to tell me."

He swallowed, bowed his head and immediately corrected himself before she could. It's taken years, but he's realized his parents will never allow him to hang his head in shame. "Do you remember that time when I went to see George… before I found out he wasn't my real dad?"

"You went a few times, can you be specific?"

"I asked him," he exhaled slowly, "if he thought my head could be bad, you know? Like, like just born bad-"

"I remember he told you that you were a good boy," she said glancing in the rearview mirror at the cars lining up behind her. Kids happily getting in and kissing their parents. Talking and laughing.

"You think he could be wrong?"

Her brows raised slowly, her eyes wide, "Honey… what's going on?"

"Do you think he could have been wrong?"

"George has been a doctor for a lot of years. I worked with him for years. He's good. He wasn't wrong."

He licked his lips, ran his hand forward and back through his hair, "I think he was wrong."

"Then you're wrong," she countered quickly, "You are one-hundred percent wrong."

"I hate her for doing this, mom… I hate Crystal. That has to make me right and George wrong," he wiped quickly at a tear and shook his head, "How can you love someone, how can you be best friends with someone and hate them at the same time? Your head has to be messed up. It has to."

"No," she whispered and trailed a finger along his cheek. "No, it doesn't mean that you're messed up, Samuel. It means you're human and you love her. Love is so complex, honey. It's not cut and dry or black and white, it's completely grey and in between."

He swallowed, his face turning bright red in an effort to control his tears, "I yelled at her," he choked out his confession.

"What?" Olivia furrowed her brow. "When? You woke up late this morning, you didn't call her and she had her surgery really early in the morning-"

"I borrowed Uncle Robert's cell phone during lunch… he's pretty pissed at me, too."

She shook her head and exhaled, "Your language has really went south," she smiled softly and took another breath, "That explains the message he left for me at work then, huh?"

"He called you?"

"Asked me to call him back… I didn't have time… what happened?"

He closed his eyes, swallowed and tried so desperately to control his tears, "Where are the kids?"

"You wanted me to take you to the hospital… that's why your father has them."

"The day care is open at the gym, now?"

"As of two days ago… you're ignoring whatever is happening."

"I called the hospital, the surgery was only supposed to go two hours, and so I called to see how she was."

"She answer?"

"Her mom did."

"And?"

"She woke up and wanted to talk."

"Uh, huh… and?" she prodded.

He covered his face with his hands and shook his head as he sobbed, "I yelled at her mom. I'm so sorry. I yelled at her and called her selfish and told her I hated her."

Olivia's jaw dropped and it took her a moment to form her question, "Sam… why did you-"

"Because!" he snapped and raised his face, it was red, pained with tear tracks. "Because, now everyone one else will see how beautiful she is and she'll have friends and some stupid jerk-wad-bastard will take her from me and then we'll never…" he shook his head, closed his mouth and flared his nostrils, "Uncle Robert is pissed."

"Where did you pick up the language?" Olivia smiled softly.

"I'm a product of public schools, mom."

"God wouldn't want it for you, Sam… you know that."

He exhaled, "I don't feel like I know anything, Mom."

She tilted her head, exhaled and reached out to him, wrapped her arm around him and pulled him close, a kiss on his head, "Uncle Robert might be angry, but it's only because you've never done something like this. You took him by surprise-"

"He yelled at me… he's never done that."

"You deserved it… you were a jerk. Plain and simple."

"I know."

She kissed him again, "But, that doesn't mean you shouldn't go visit her."

And just like that, she hit it square on the nail. He pulled her closer, buried his face in her neck as he'd done when he was eight, nine, ten and even eleven years old. He sobbed, "Yeah, well… she told me to never visit her."

She kept her lips in his hair, another soft kiss as she hugged him, "You upset her… did you think she'd want you there after you yelled at her?"

"I don't know."

She smiled, "You and your father are two peas in a pod. Son… go visit her."

He pulled away slowly and leaned back against the window, the warm sun highlighting his jaw line and if Olivia squinted she could swear she saw the thin line of a mustache. When in the heck did that happen to her baby? "She told me, she wants to switch schools… to get away from me. She said she never wants anything to do with me again."

Olivia nodded, "Well, if that's the case then I hope you've learned your lesson, but whatever the situation, you're going to the hospital right now, and you're going to apologize. Your father and I didn't raise you this way, Samuel… I know you're hurting and I know you're angry and I know you're starting to question yourself again for whatever reason… but those aren't excuses I'm willing to accept-"

"I can't go, Mom," he sobbed, "I can't. I think it will hurt her more."

Olivia took in a breath and looked out the front windshield, the crowds had dissipated save a lonely crossing guard, "One thing that I've learned about you and Crystal is that you two have always been able to work things out. You're stuck to each other like nothing I've ever seen. You have some serious apologizing to do and it's not gonna hurt to bring her a flower while you do it."

"Mom… she'll hate me."

"From what you've told me… she already does. What do you have to loose?"

He exhaled, "Mom," he cried in frustration, "I don't know what to do!"

Olivia smiled softly, "I'm telling you honey. You go there right now, you try to make it right and then you let her do the rest… you hurt her honey. She needed you and you dropped the ball-"

"Mom!"

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not gonna lie to you and say that what you did was okay, because it wasn't… but I will tell you that I'll help you fix it. The rest is up to her and if she doesn't want to see you or hear from you, you'll have to accept that."

"But mom… she's mine," he whispered.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed softly, "When did she become a possession, huh? When did she become something like Moses or Zeus, rather than your best friend? You can't let your insecurities come between you two."

"I'm not!"

"You are," she whispered. "Honey, I've listened to you all this time and your only reason for hating this surgery is not that it might have a bad effect on _her_, but that she'll be beautiful and have friends… which means less time for _you_."

He sniffled, "She's not like Moses… I just… why is it hard, mom? Why does it have to be this way?"

She exhaled, caressed his cheek, "Love is hard, Samuel, but it's not impossible."

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"I should have worn a tie," Sam exhaled, stalling to enter the hospital room.

Olivia elbowed him softly in the arm, "You never wear a tie around an angry women… all sorts of bad things can happen."

Sam smiled softly, "She's gonna hate me."

Olivia exhaled and wrapped her arm around his waist as they stood in front of the door, "Well, look on the plus side son-"

"What plus side, Mom? This is bad."

She smirked, "Yeah, but the plus side is she'll be too weak to throw anything at you."

He visibly deflated, the pain clearly written on his face as he leaned his forehead against the door and exhaled, "You'll say I'm too young to know what it is, to understand it…. but, I love her, Mom… like dad loves you… and then so much more."

She rubbed his back softly, "If you love her… you'll try and make it right. Love is synonymous for eating crow, and you son… have got a big one to gulp down today."

He smirked, "When I was small, you use to rock me, tell me everything would be okay… sometimes I'd rather go back to that. I'd rather go back to you and dad."

She smiled softly, kissed his cheek, "Get in there."

"Come with me."

"I think she'll want to see you alone-"

"Just… wait on the side, you know? Just… in there, though?"

"You want your mom with you?"

He smiled, leaned his head on her shoulder, "Always… between you and me, I'm a mama's boy."

She laughed out loud, pulled him close, "Yeah, I'll go in, but if things get hot… if she tries to kill you, I won't be a witness. I'm skipping out."

"You'd abandon me in there?" he grinned.

Olivia smiled, "Angry chicks… that's brutal. Yeah, I'll leave you hanging to fend for yourself in there."

He smiled big then slowly let if fall before stepping into the room.

"Samuel," Crystal's Mom smiled, "Good to see you."

"Leave," Crystal said weakly from the bed, but no matter how fragile her words were, it knocked the life right out of Sam. "Get out."

Sam hung his head. Didn't pick it up, "Okay," he whispered and turned to leave.

Olivia snagged him by the back of his shirt, "No."

He exhaled, ran his hand forward and back through his hair and slowly, cautiously made his way deeper into the no man's land, "H-how are you feeling?" he asked.

"What do you care?" her whispered barely met Olivia's ears as she sat down in a chair in the corner of the room. Crystal's mother sitting next to her.

"Those two are gonna kill me," she smiled softly and nudged Olivia. "Seem's they've had a fight."

Olivia shook her head, "Samuel… he said some things he shouldn't have. He's apologizing and then I'll make sure he respects what she wants. I'm sorry this happened."

"Nonsense," she smiled. "Come on, we both know those two are gonna end up married, may as well get some practice in the fight arena while they're young."

"Married, huh?" Olivia looked on as Sam stood dejectedly at the foot of the bed, his hands in his pockets, his head still bowed, "He's still my baby."

"Crystal is still mine," she smiled and leaned back. "The wrapping on her face blocks a lot of the swelling… she hasn't seen it yet. I saw right after they brought her in… it's pretty bad, but they say it'll get better… she'll need more surgeries as she gets older."

Olivia exhaled, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not… she's wanted to do this for awhile. The kids are ruthless to her."

"I know… Sam-sometimes he tells me."

"He's afraid to loose her… that's all," she assured Olivia. "He's a good boy."

"I know," Olivia whispered and watched him wince from another scathing rejection, but still make his way to Crystal's bedside. "She's a good girl… she's gonna put him through the ringer, though, huh?"

"Oh, yeah… probably twice," she chuckled then calmed. "In all seriousness… she's been pretty upset… she needed him."

"I know… I tried to explain that, but he's sort of being egocentric."

"I've tried to tell her why, but… Crystal is Crystal."

Olivia smirked, "Samuel is Samuel."

"Which is exactly why they'll get over this."

Olivia sighed and watched her son attempt to interact with Crystal, and clearly, Crystal wasn't wanting anything to do with him.

"Just get out! I don't know why you came, anyway!" she hissed from the hospital bed.

Sam licked his lips and ran his hand through his hair, "I came… I came to say that I'm sorry."

Even though Crystal's face was shrouded with gauze and wrapping Olivia was certain her brows had narrowed, "You're sorry?" she snapped and shook her head.

"Yeah… I am," he exhaled and side stepped the bed so that he could stand directly to the side of it, his hand hesitantly hunting for hers on the mattress. He found it, tried to cover it.

She slapped it away, "That's great, Sammy. I'm really glad you're sorry… get out!"

"I was a jerk," he whispered and crammed his hands into his pockets, "a big one."

"You don't say?" she sniffled and moaned as she turned her head. Even though he couldn't see her, she didn't want to look at him. "Go. I'm getting a headache."

"You don't get headaches," he whispered and reached around until he found a chair and sat in it. "You're just trying to get rid of me." 

"You're still sharp," she snapped, "Get. Out. Samuel Stabler."

"No."

Olivia's eyes widened, "Um… I'm gonna take him-"

"No, no… she's being stubborn… he was the first person she asked for when she woke up. They're fine."

"You're sure? I don't want to upset her… he can call tonight-"

"No, they need to get this settled… you know how they are. Remember all the times they have squabbled… have they ever just blatantly forgiven one another?"

Olivia smirked, "No… no they haven't."

She smiled and leaned back, "Just let them work it out."

Olivia nodded, leaned back and continued to watch, although she'd obviously missed something between the two because Sam had since, pulled his chair closer to the bed and was whispering things she had to strain to hear.

"You're my best friend, Crystal… I'm sorry, I yelled at you."

She sniffled, "Samuel… sorry, doesn't make me hurt any less. It doesn't make my leg feel better where they peeled off my skin and it doesn't make my face look or feel better."

He furrowed his brows, "If I could make it… so that you never had to deal with that… I would. You know that don't you, Crystal?" he asked and wiped his tear with the back of his hand, "You know I wouldn't want you to be in pain."

"Then what did you call that phone call, Samuel? Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Do you have a clue at all? No, you don't."

He bowed his head, clenched his jaw a deep breath taken. She really was being brutally honest with him, "I'm sorry-"

"I needed my friend, Sammy… I needed you and you made sure that I would go into surgery upset and that I would wake up upset… without you. Why would you do that to me? We're friends, Sammy… why did you do that?"

He bit his bottom lip, and timidly placed his hand back on the mattress and Olivia wanted to fall out of her chair the moment his hand covered hers, his adolescent fingers lacing with hers, "I was jealous. I'm sorry."

"Jealous? Of what? Did you want someone to rip the skin off of your leg and super glue it to your face?"

He smirked, "No… I just don't want…"

"Want what? Sammy, say it… why were you so mean?"

Olivia's brows rose slowly as she watched his thumb rub the top of Crystal's palm. They are only thirteen. Distance. That's what they need but as she sees them both break, she knows it would be futile to stand in their way.

He stopped the soothing motion and tapped his index finger over her hand, "I don't want anyone else to have you," he said hoarsely as the tears continued to fall.

"Have me?"

"As a friend… I love you Crystal. I like hanging out with you."

Olivia saw her lips raise in the faintest smile, "You like me that much, huh?"

"I do."

She exhaled, swallowed, "You really hurt me Sammy… more than I ever thought you could. Jerk doesn't begin to cover what you did."

Quickly, he let her hand go, dug deep into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled daisy, "I got you a flower," he said and held it between them, only three pedals remaining, four at the most, "I got you this flower, 'cause… I'm a jerk."

Slowly and with care of her I.V she took the crumpled and surely dead flower from his hand, "You're not supposed to stick flowers in your pocket, dufuss."

He smirked, "You're name calling."

"I can't smell it… not only is it brutalized but… all of this gauze and stuff blocks everything, you know?"

"You in pain?"

"From you or the surgery?" she asked in dead seriousness and both Olivia and Crystal's mother cringed.

Sam closed his eyes, "I'm sorry, Crystal. You've got to know that I am."

Her voice cracked as her chest heaved, "It still doesn't change the fact that I needed you and you turned your back on me, Sammy… I wouldn't have done that to you. I've never done that to you."

"Please," he swallowed, but made no motion to wipe his tears, "I'm begging you to forgive me. I don't like it when we disagree."

"This isn't a disagreement, Sam… this is a fight. You messed up. Big time."

"I did," he confessed. "I'm trying to make it right, Crystal… please, meet me half way?"

She fingered the soft pedal of the flower and looked at him. Her eye sight was a little hazy but she saw the regret etched in his features, saw the tears streaming his face and felt his fingers squeeze hers again.

"Please, Crystal. I'm sorry."

She sobbed as both mothers looked on in concern and Sam, so much like his father, leaned his body closer and lowered his voice so that even with the best trained ear Olivia couldn't hear him, "Please. I'll do anything," he whispered in her ear. "You're my friend. Let me make it up to you? I'll do your homework all year."

Crystal sniffled, raised a shaky hand and placed it softly on his shoulder, "You can be such an 'A-hole' sometimes, Samuel… but yeah, I'll forgive you."

He grinned slowly and surprised all three women buy pulling Crystal's hand to his face and kissing it softly, "I'm sorry."

"I know," she whispered and lowered her hand, "I like having you around too, you know?"

He tilted his head, "Crystal?"

"Yeah? Make it quick, I'm starting to want my pain killers, they'll knock me out."

"Can I… I can't see what you –"

"Go ahead, but be soft."

"Am I ever rough?" he smirked and gently rested the tips of his fingers on the gauze, "Mummy."

"Shut up."

"Did they say it worked?"

"I need more surgeries when I get older… it's a long thing, you know?"

"More?"

"Yeah… gives you a chance to make up for the crappy way you handled this one."

He smiled softly and stood only to bend over the side of the bed, his thumb grazing her uncovered cheek before he slowly lowered his lips to the flesh there and kissed her delicately, "All better?"

"Getting there."

Crystal's mother leaned over to Olivia, "Did Samuel just kiss my daughter?"

Olivia stared in shock, "Uh, yeah…. I'll kill him."

"No," she smirked, "No. It was innocent."

Olivia continued to watch, sure it was innocent but Olivia felt her stomach sink, knowing that eventually it would lead to more and her son would be a man, hopelessly in love with a woman.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And because disaster comes in all different shapes and sizes Olivia has prepared herself for anything. Sam, exhausted, has curled up in his bed for a nap, while she lays on the sofa waiting for Elliot to return with dinner. Hannah and Solomon napping in her and Elliot's bed while Isaac lay sprawled out on the sofa across from her.

She has become the very thing she never thought possible.

Domesticated.

She'd always wanted to be, but never thought she'd ever get the chance yet here she was, hair pulled back in a sloppy pony-tail. Kids strung about the house while they recharged themselves and a book in her hands that at one time seemed only capable of holding a case file for an abused woman or child, an occasional man at times.

"Mama?" Hannah's small voice broke into her thoughts and sent her gaze in search of the voice that was normally bright, but currently broken.

"Honey?" Olivia pushed herself up and held out her arms, "Come here, what's wrong, pumpkin?"

"Hurts me right here, Mama," she said sadly and raised her wrist to her mother, "can you kiss it pweaze?"

Olivia grinned and pulled Hannah into her lap, "Sure can," she whispered as she helped her daughter settle against her chest. She raised her hand to her lips and kissed her softly, "All better?"

"Yeah, t'ank you."

Olivia hummed against her daughter's hair, "I thought you were napping?"

"Scary picture," she whispered and tightened her mother's arms around her small body.

"Scary picture?" Olivia furrowed her brow, "Did you have a dream?"

"Yeah," Hannah nodded, "Scary… Solo is sleepies and I tired too, Mommy."

"I know you are," Olivia whispered and kissed her cheek from behind, "I can rock you back to sleep… want that?"

"Kermit and Mr. Uno?" Hannah asked.

"What about them?"

"You rock them wid'me?"

"I can rock Mr. Uno with you, but, honey… Kermit needs his water."

"Dat's suck about Kermit."

Olivia grinned, "I think Kermit is cool."

"I like Kermit… but I want to hold him."

Olivia smiled and kissed Hannah's cheek again, "I'll tell ya what… you go talk to Kermit, make him happy and I'll be in to rock you and Mr. Uno… how's that?"

"I make him happy?"

"Sure… I'm sure he'll understand why he can't be rocked. I'm sure he'll be fine with it."

"Sure?" Hannah raised her brows, "Kermit really wants to be rockeded with you and me."

"Positive."

Hannah grinned and scooted off of her mother's lap, making her way back to her room, "You comin' mommy?"

"Give me a few minutes," Olivia called back to her, "I'll be in, in a second," she smiled and heard her daughter's giggle.

Olivia straightened up the small clutter she'd made, folded a throw she'd used as a pillow and placed it on the back of the couch and stilled as soon as she heard the tub water turn on.

"Hannah! No bath tub for Kermit!" She called down the hallway.

"Ah, mommy!" Hannah groaned, "Kermit wants to get wet."

"Honey, he's in a bowl of _water_. He's _already_ wet!" Olivia informed her as she stacked her book on the coffee table and made her way back to her daughter before hearing the front door open.

"Hey," she grinned and stopped before passing the opened door.

Elliot smiled, setting down his keys and kissing her softly on the cheek, "Hey… you look amazing."

She swatted him playfully, "Yeah, this pony tail is really hot."

He kissed her again, take-out still in his hand, the bag bulging as he pulled her waist to him and kissed her mouth softly, "It is."

She smiled brightly against him and nuzzled her nose against his. She opened her mouth to say something before instantly pulling back as if he were on fire.

"What?" he furrowed his brows.

"Do you hear that?" She whispered and trained her attention to the back of the house.

"No… I don't hear anything."

Olivia's eyes bounced side to side, "Exactly," she mumbled and turned to continue her way down the hall. Elliot set the bag on the floor and followed her, intrigued by the sudden suspicion.

"What's going on, Liv?" he asked and was shushed by a wave of her hand as she stopped at the kids' bathroom door.

From what Elliot saw, his wife's lips grew tight, her hand rest on her hip, her brows arched, one of their children were in the restroom and unless he got next to his wife fast, they were gonna meet their mother's wrath.

Olivia took a breath to say something when Elliot wrapped his arm around her waist, kissed her neck softly and rested his chin on her shoulder as she physically relaxed. Elliot furrowed his brows once he'd seen the apparent cause of Olivia's dissatisfaction.

Hannah Stabler quietly stood in front of the toilet bowl, her knees slightly bent, her small hands covering her thighs as she stared quietly, almost mesmerized into the toilet bowel. Her thick dark hair falling and hanging as she peered into the bowl.

"What is she doing?" Elliot whispered softly, surprised that Hannah could be so captivated with the toilet bowl that she didn't hear her parents sneak up on her.

Olivia shook her head, "Young lady," Olivia said firmly and Elliot felt so sorry for his baby girl.

Hannah was startled. She immediately stood straight up, her large brown eyes staring at her mother before all of her senses engaged at once and she squeaked, instantly pulling for the silver lever to flush the toilet. She slammed the toilet lid down and quickly sat on it, "Hi, Daddy," she smiled.

She was sneaky. Oh, so sneaky.

Elliot grinned, "You were up to no good, weren't you Morning Glory?"

"No," she smiled up at him.

"Honey?" Olivia furrowed her brow and tilted her neck, "Why is Kermit's bowl in the bathroom?" she asked and reached for the empty bowl, "Han- Oh, no. Hannah… did you put Kermit in the water after I said no?" Olivia asked and looked into the tub.

A few inches of water. No frog.

And then the dawning of realization.

Olivia turned back around slowly and looked at her innocent little girl. Her innocent little girl that had just committed involuntary frog-slaughter. "Baby," Elliot bent slowly, his legs grinding and popping but never keeping him from leveling his eyes with his daughter's, "where's your frog?"

"Wha'frog, Daddy?" she asked softly, her chubby toes reaching out to touch his thigh.

"Honey," Olivia kneeled next to Elliot, "Where's Kermit, pumpkin?"

"Kermit?" Hannah tilted her head, "Who dat?"

At three, their daughter would have been a challenge to break in the interrogation room.

"Hannah, get off the toilet," Elliot whispered and slowly took her hand and pulled her off of the toilet.

She held the lid down, "He not in der, prowmise," she said. The anxious voice she used, told them otherwise.

Gently, Olivia removed Hannah's hands and raised the lid.

She was right, Kermit wasn't in there… at least not after she flushed him down the drain.

"Hey!" Hannah furrowed her brow and looked into the bowl, "Where my Kermit go?"

"Honey," Olivia deflated and picked her up, letting her set on the countertop. "Pumpkin, did you put Kermit in the toilet?"

"No," she shook her head but avoided her mother's eyes at all cost.

Olivia hooked her finger under Hannah's chin and turned her face to her, "Sweetie… tell me the truth. No time out, I promise. Did you put Kermit in the toilet bowl?"

Hannah let her lower lip stick out, "You saided no sink, yesterday, and no baf'tub so I putted him in the potty, so hims could getted wet."

Olivia and Elliot's cringe was obvious as Elliot stood, "Oh, Morning Glory… the toilet… it doesn't give us stuff, back," Elliot whispered and pushed her hair softly behind her ear.

Even her ears were Olivia's.

"Wha you talkin' Daddy? The potty givded Mommy poopie back… 'member how mad she gotted when it came back?"

"Nana," Olivia rubbed her small thighs softly. "Doesn't work that way baby. Remember, Mommy fixed the potty so it doesn't give stuff back."

Hannah, looked over her shoulder at the toilet and took in a breath, her brows furrowing, "Kermit no come back?"

"Not after a flush," Elliot whispered and kissed her head softly. "I'm sorry baby, Kermit is in a really super big bowl, now."

Hannah turned quickly to her mother, "Mommy?"

Olivia licked her lips, tilted her head in compassion and ran her knuckle over her chubby cheek, "Sorry, pumpkin… Kermit can't come back now."

Hannah swallowed, looked back at the toilet then frantically to her father, "You make him come back, Daddy?"

Elliot shook his head, "I can't… Daddy, can't. I'm so-"

"Mommy?" Hannah looked to her in desperation, her chest frantically raising and falling. "Mommy… you fix the potty so it gives us poopie back and then Kermit will come back?"

Olivia held her daughter's ankle and brought it to the side of her leg, rubbing the small calf softly, "I'm sorry, Baby-"

"But-but-but you finded Solo's snake."

"That's a little different, honey," Olivia tried to explain, "Solo's snake was ali-"

Hannah's face crumbled, her brown eyes dieing immediately, "Kermit dead? He a gonner Mommy?"

"Baby-"

"Daddy?" Hannah looked at him and began to cry, "My froggie, dead?

Elliot bit his lip, "Yeah," he said hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

She shuddered as she tried to catch her breath and reach for her mother "'Cause I flusheded the potty, mommy?"

"Oh, honey," Olivia whispered and picked her up, hugging her tightly, one hand under her bottom, the other on the back of her head as she cried into her neck, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you."

Hannah sobbed uncontrollably in her mother's arms as she walked her into her room.

"I'll get you some dinner, Liv… Love, you Morning Glory," he called softly and rubbed Hannah's back before Olivia took her into her bedroom and laid her on her tiny bed.

"You're okay," Olivia whispered, and curled up next to her daughter, "I'm sorry, honey."

She sobbed, "You sure, he not comin' back, mommy?"

Olivia pulled in her lip, and tangled her hand in her daughter's hair, "Pretty sure, baby girl."

Hannah pulled tighter to her mother's body , her tiny knees pulling up to her chest, her bare toes rubbing against Olivia exposed flesh between her pants and shirts, "I want my froggie."

"I know," Olivia whispered and pressed her lips to Hannah's forehead, "I know, baby."

"Mommy," Hannah cried "I sad, now."

"I know," Olivia told her and ran her finger over her daughter's wet cheek, "but, maybe he lived and now he's swimming in a super big pool."

Hannah darted her eyes in thought and sniffled, "Maybe Kermit livded?"

"Yeah," Olivia smiled softly knowing he was probably dead. More than likely dead, anyway.

"He alive…I just no see him?"

"Yeah."

"Like, when you and Daddy spended a lot of days at work?"

Olivia furrowed her brow, "Honey… that was when we were starting… we see you every day now."

"I see Kermit again?"

"No," Olivia shook her head gently, "I'm sorry. Probably not, baby."

Hannah sniffled, tried so hard to hold in her tears, but cried just as hard as ever against her mother's chest, until several minutes later, her eyes slowly drifted shut, her hold on Olivia's shirt, loosened and her cherub lips parted in relaxation.

Olivia cradled her small head in her hand until she could bring a pillow under her daughter. She stood, pulled the comforter over her daughter's body and kissed her cheek softly, "Night, Pumpkin… I'm sorry."

"She'll be okay," Elliot whispered from the doorway and held his hand out to her. "I love you."

Olivia smiled softly, "She's a frog killer, El."

He chuckled softly and walked her down the hallway, "She won't remember… hopefully."

Olivia exhaled "Oh, she'll remember tomorrow… I can assure you."

Elliot smiled softly and pulled her close to him, "I love you."

Olivia grinned and wrapped her arm around his neck, "You said that twice in thirty seconds… what are you up to?"

Elliot smiled softly, "Nothing… wanted to know if you wanted to lay with me on the couch."

"What about dinner?" she smiled softly, "you worked so hard putting the take out on the plates."

He laughed gently and kissed her mouth, "I put Isaac in his bed, Sam is still out… just wanted to spend some time with you, and Solomon is camped out in our room… just me and you, Liv."

She smiled and rested her forehead against his, "Yeah. Yeah, skip dinner. Sounds good."

They laughed softly, kissed each other gently and within moments they were stretched out on the sofa, his arm around her middle as she rested her head on the other. "You okay?" Elliot whispered and kissed her ear softly, "I can feel your heart beat."

"I've got this sexy man behind me… his hands are on me. I think I have a reason for a fast heart rate."

"Yeah?" He smiled and draped his leg over her body, "What does that do to you?"

"Mmmm, only good things, I can assure you."

"Good," he whispered and kissed her neck before lowering his leg. "How was your day?"

"Sam is a lucky little boy… I thought it was really gonna be the end of he and Crystal today."

"What happened?"

She exhaled, "We've got to do something about Sam… where'd he pick up that language? He's been doing well for almost a year now, but… I don't know, every now and again, he's so critical and harsh on himself. He played 'the Wilson' card on me today."

Elliot groaned, "Again?"

"Yeah… I thought I was gonna cream him. It makes me so angry when he does that, Elliot. What am I doing wrong that he doesn't understand how much we love him?"

"Hey," Elliot whispered and rubbed her abdomen softly, "No… it's not that. He's a teenager now, Liv… he's gonna practically kill us both before reality finally sets in. Face it, honey, we're not gonna see the fruits of our labor until he's in his twenties… if we're lucky."

She groaned, "My boys… they're killin' me. I thought it was the girls that were supposed to be trouble."

Elliot smiled, "For me she is. She'll always be. No one will ever be good enough."

"Yeah," Olivia whispered and closed her eyes softly. "We get tomorrow to ourselves, huh?"

"Yeah," he whispered softly and kissed her forehead, "after school, Sam and Isaac and the dynamic duo get to go see Soarin."

"They're gonna love it."

"We're gonna love it," Elliot whispered and stroked her leg softly, "a night, other than date night."

She chuckled, "Yeah, we've had a couple of those lately."

"You complaining'?"

"Absolutely not," she said softly and turned to rest her face in the crook of his neck. "Elliot," she whispered softly.

"Yeah?"

"Have you thought about it?"

"What?"

"You know what… have you?"

He exhaled, kissed her hair softly, "I… I don't want to try something like that-tying you up, without talking to Viv… I don't trust it."

"_It_. Or _me_?" she whispered and pulled back to look at him.

"It," he whispered and cupped her face, "and me."

"You?"

He exhaled, "What if I miss it again, Liv? What if I don't see that you don't like it?"

She traced his lips softly with her finger, "I'll tell you if I can't take it."

"Liv," he covered her hand with his and kissed her fingertips, "you didn't tell me last time and… you took my son-"

"I'm sorry," she whispered sadly. "I am, Elliot. If I could do it over-"

"It's just… you have no idea, how it felt to see you run out with Sam in your arms."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Liv… it's all in the past, it is. I just… I couldn't take seeing something like that again."

She exhaled, hooked her thumb around so she cradled his hand and brought it to her lips, "Then we'll wait until we both figure it out. I want to. I think I'm ready to try it, but I'll wait for you."

He exhaled through his nose, closed his eyes and scooted his face closer to hers. His lips pursed to kiss the tip of her nose as their feet tangled together. "You fallin' asleep on this couch with me?" he whispered.

"Yeah," she smiled softly, "at least until Solomon wakes up and comes looking for us."

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Olivia watched Elliot grip the phone and clench his jaw. She leaned against the door frame of the Gym office and watched him quietly, watched the poor phone suffer under the strength of his anger, his grip. She took a deep breath, wondered how his hands could be so cruel with the phone when they were so gentle with her last night.

He'd carried her to the bed after she'd fallen asleep on the couch. And while she normally would have protested, even in her half-asleep-half-awake state, she would have demanded he put her down before he ached or hurt himself, she would have demanded he take his cane with him. Okay, maybe not demanded, but she would have offered him a reminder.

Yet, she didn't because, the moment she felt him slip gentle hands under her body, the moment she felt her husband adjust her weight against his chest, her cheek against his shoulder, she'd felt amazingly beautiful and sexy and wanted and she wasn't going to argue with it. Instead, she smiled softly against the fabric of his shirt, and rested her hand against his shoulder.

His foot steps had been careful, almost calculated and she did every thing in her power to stay still in his arms, to let him have this moment with her that she knew made him feel like his body was normal, made him feel like he was capable of doing the same things he'd done with her before his attack.

He'd been incredibly gentle with her, lowering her softly and carefully to the bed, the lightest kiss placed softly at the corner of her mouth and then he'd backed away completely and before she could fully comprehend what he was doing, sleep had taken away her understanding of anything other than the fact that she had an amazing husband.

An amazing husband, whose anger threatened to shatter the phone receiver if he didn't calm down. Selfishly, the only thing that is registering in her mind is the complete antonym that he can be at times. Here, as she watches his anger build she can only remember the smell of his freshly showered body as he pulled her close to him, her senses still holding her captive in a sleep that she didn't want to give up-well, until his hand slipped into the cotton of her panties.

She'd felt her own gentle smile on her lips before she could even will her eyes to open, so… she opted to keep them closed. She'd felt the first pass of his fingertip against her flesh and because their bodies do what they want, on their own accord without input from their brains… not when it comes to one another, she instinctively moved her leg up closer to her chest, his finger moving lazily over her core, the cool of his chest slowly warming with the heat of her body.

Words hadn't been exchanged, not when the strength of his erection pressed into her body, not when his hand had withdrawn and simply moved the fabric of her now moist panties to the side, not even when he slipped slowly into her body. She'd accepted him, craved him really and instinctively reached back, touching his face and grinning.

He'd shaved his beard completely off. It had taken such a length of time, and while she thought the beard was sexy, while she happily asked him to sit on a countertop when he'd gone down to a goatee one night, and let her lips thank his body; she'd wanted to see a freshly shaven Elliot, confidant again, the man she knew before their life was put on the spin cycle.

And as his body withdrew softly and pushed back into hers with painfully slow movements she took in a soft gasp and moved her bottom back against him.

"Shh, no," he'd whispered into her ear, "no work. Just relax."

Like she was really going to argue with that. She'd done just what he'd asked her to do and that is precisely why, as she stares at him, his cheeks puffing out in anger as he continues to snap over the phone, she is confused. His hands were entirely tender with her last night, as he caressed her breast, his hips moved slowly forward and back, not the frustrated bouncing of his legs, the constant shifting in his office chair. His voice had been smooth, erotic as he whispered to her, bringing her to the peek of pleasure.

She'd almost begged him, "Not yet. Not yet," trying to prolong it, but it was his voice, the warmth of his breath that rolled over the silk of her skin, that had made her toss her head back further if only to feel his breath more, it was the way he cradled her and thrust softly into her body that let her fall apart in his embrace. And it was his lips that kissed her tenderly as she panted that helped her return to reality.

But the man that had brought her into ecstasy last night was a far different creature than the man yelling into the phone. The chords of his neck bulging, not from the labor of thrusting into his wife's body, but from the anger that he was unleashing.

She pushed herself from the door way and closed the door, his voice growling into the receiver and just as she turned around, he'd slammed the phone so forcefully onto the desk, all items had an almost imperceptible jump as the receiver broke, the cordless battery handing only by the red and black battery attachment that it hung from.

He stood and even in his anger his stature was sexy… if not more. His anger had blinded him, had dulled his senses to the fact that she was there, until she wrapped her arms around his waist, her lips kissing him softly through his dress shirt, she felt the muscles in his back twitch, "Problem with the financers?"

He exhaled, covered her hands and brought them to his chest, holding them in place, "No… no that went through, this morning. You all packed? I put together your over night bag, but I wasn't sure if you were doing jeans or suits."

She rested her forehead between his shoulders, "Elliot… is that why you're angry? Because I have to go this week?"

"What?" he shook his head softly, "No. No… I know you have to go. That's the business tycoon in you… who would have guessed that?" he chuckled sadly.

She smiled, squeezed his body in a hug and kissed him again, "You killed the phone… why?"

Elliot exhaled, turned around and cupped her cheek, "You're gorgeous, you know that?" he whispered and kissed her forehead softly, "Have I told you that? How gorgeous you are? Do you know it?"

She furrowed her brow, wrapped her arms tighter around him and whispered, "Who was on the phone… what's wrong?"

"The… that was the lab at the doctor's office."

She pulled back, searched his face, her eyes falling on the mangled scar of his cheek and remembering exactly why they'd done another stupid test when both of them knew exactly what the outcome was going to be. They'd done it for one reason.

Because he wanted another chance.

He wanted to prove to her that he was a man.

Even though she'd known it from the first time his lips touched hers outside of her apartment.

She'd always known it, perhaps before she knew him.

"Test come back?" she asked trying to sound just as cool and collected as the inside of her mind was not.

He exhaled, "No… back up at the lab. It was supposed to take seven to ten days…. today was eleven, so I called."

She blew out a breath. Back up. That's okay. Not good news. Not bad news. Just a back up. "Did they say when?"

He smiled softly, kissed her forehead gently and let his lips linger there for the sole purpose of her not being able to see his eyes when he lied to her, "Should be back by the time you get back."

She smiled, pulled back and kissed him, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered and kissed her mouth. "We better go get the kids so we can get you on that plane, huh?"

She nuzzled her nose against his, "You could fly out with me… join the mile high club together?" she chuckled and was happy to hear his laugh, feel his breath cascade over her skin.

"I think that would send Isaac into orbit… he's already pissed that you're not gonna be here."

She nodded, "You're gonna have your hands full, this week. Especially with him."

He rubbed her back in small circles before sliding them down and caressing her backside, "I hate when you wear these slacks, they don't have back pockets so I can slide my hands into them and feel that cute butt of yours."

She chuckled, "I don't have that problem," she whispered playfully and slipped her hands into his back pockets giving him a gentle squeeze, "I didn't get my penis."

His eyes went wide with shock before he laughed, tossing his head back, "Maybe you'll get the authentic one when you come back home."

She smiled, sipped softly from his lower lip, "Sam hates mayonnaise."

"After four years, I know that," he smiled.

She withdrew a hand, swatted his side playfully, "Then why'd you make his sand which with mayo last time?"

"He said he wouldn't tell!" Elliot laughed and kissed the top of her head, "We better go get them."

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"Do I get a hug?" Olivia crouched low before entering the gate section to catch her plane.

"Mommer… you no come back for long days?" Solomon asked with a perfect pouted lip.

"Oh, honey," Olivia smiled softly and caressed his chubby cheek, "Mommer has to go take care of some stuff and learn some stuff for the gyms… only a few days. I promise, I'll be home and we'll go ice skating just like we planned."

Solomon grinned, "You teach me, Mommer?"

She brought her cheek to his, hugged him tightly, "Yeah, baby. I'll teach you. I love you."

"Mommer?" he whispered, "I tell you my snake's name, and you stay with me?"

Olivia closed her eyes and exhaled, "I'm sorry son. I do want to know his name, but I can't stay. But I'll call every night, and dad got me the cool camera for my computer so I'll see you and you can see me… you'll have fun with Daddy."

He lowered his eyes and began to cry quietly, "But, I want you, too. More."

"I know… and I want you, baby," she whispered and kissed him just in time for Hannah to come charging through, "Hey!" Olivia laughed and looked over her daughter's shoulder as she hugged her tight. Solomon walked back to his father, completely and utterly defeated. Elliot picked him up, held him and watched as Olivia broke another tender heart.

"But who gonna tell'ded me stories in the mornin'?" Hannah asked, resting her arms on her mother's shoulders, "Who gonna wakded me up?"

Olivia smiled, cupped her daughter's cheeks and kissed her forehead, "Your daddy, will. He's got really fun stories to tell you."

"But," Hannah's face fell downcast, her ponytail swinging back and forth as she shook her head frantically, "but, you save my heart," she whispered and placed her mother's hand over her small chest. "You make it better for when I wakies scared."

"Trust me Pumpkin… Daddy is super good at saving someone's heart… he'll be amazing. Give him a chance honey. He's wanted you all to himself for awhile."

Hannah exhaled, "I no want you to goed."

Olivia smiled, kissed her daughter and rubbed her back, "I'll see you tonight on the computer, okay?"

"Not same."

"I know… but…. I love you."

Hannah smiled shortly and returned to her father who still had a very upset Solomon in his arms.

"Dare I ask for a hug from you?" Olivia asked with a small smiled as Isaac sat in a chair, posture anything but well; slouched down, his tie pulled loose, his hair mangled and once bright blue eyes dull and sad.

"Super long time, mom."

"I know," Olivia whispered, "and you know what… I'll probably cry at night, too."

"How come, mom?"

"Cause… I'm gonna miss you guys too, ya know? I love you just as much as you love me, and it's super hard for me to leave you, Isaac. I know you don't understand why," Olivia's voice broke as her eyes pooled, "I know you don't understand a lot of things about me, but do you understand that I love you? That I don't want to leave you? Not for a second?"

"Then why ya goin'?"

"So I can learn and make better decisions for the gyms and make more money so you can have nice clothes and-"

"But," he sniffled and wiped at his eyes, "I don't want nice clothes, I want you. I'm super scared mom. The shower is small and daddy will make me take a shower 'cause he says I'm extra stinky and then I got to go to school and that's super small too, mom, and I want to be with you all the time, 'cause in my dreams I'm not with you and it's so dark and the lady, she's not you."

Olivia froze. Her heart skipped, her skin cooled and heated at the same time. She looked at Elliot whose eyes were just as wide, she turned back to her son, "Baby-what do you see in your dreams?"

"Super dark," he nodded, "then there's a monster's voice and then a princess voice then it's light and I'm wet then it's dark."

She moved to stand, to tell Elliot she wasn't going on this ridiculous trip when the P.A. system cut through and called for her flight. She wasn't even at the gates yet.

"Go," Elliot urged her, "he'll be fine."

"El-"

"Go,"

Olivia exhaled and stood, reaching for her oldest son, "You'll take care of your father?"

Sam smirked, "Don't I always?"

She laughed, ran her knuckled along his cheek, "You're growing up so fast,"

"I eat like a horse, I know."

Olivia grinned and pulled him into a tight hug, "I love you, Samuel… you'll hold the house down?"

"I don't want you to go, Mom."

"I know," she whispered as she continued to hug him, "I know, but I have to."

"Isaac is still a nut job."

She smiled softly, sadly, "I know… but he's your brother. See if you can't crack him, huh?"

He smiled against her neck and pulled back, "We'll be okay, we're men-"

"Which is exactly why I'm afraid!" she laughed, "You have all the numbers on the fridge?"

He tapped his temple, "In my head, you know that."

"I'll miss you."

Sam exhaled sadly, "Don't go mom, stay with us. Me and dad… we're good to you aren't we?"

"Oh, my boy," she whispered and kissed his cheek. "You are amazing to me, you and your dad. I'm leaving for business…. not to get away. Can you understand that?"

"Who will walk with me on Saturday?"

She smiled, "My plane is landing Saturday at 4 in the morning, I'll be there to walk with you."

He nodded softly, "I still don't want you to go."

"I know… and I still don't want to go."

"Liv," Elliot interrupted softly, "you're not gonna make it if you don't move."

She exhaled, kissed Sam's forehead, "I'll talk to you tonight on the computer, baby."

He nodded sadly, "Crystal says to enjoy yourself."

"I won't… not without you guys... how is she?"

"She's still mad at me, but at least she's talking to me, I guess."

"Still mad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Learn your lesson?" she asked and leaned her forehead against her son's.

"Yeah," Sam exhaled. "Don't go, Mom… who will take me to talk to her?"

Olivia kissed him softly, "You're father is an amazing man, you kids have to give him the same chances you give me and then you'll see it and then you'll want him all the time," she smiled softly, "Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"Crystal loves you. You really flipped her switch, it'll take her awhile but she's trying, honey and that's all that's really important… be patient."

"I don't want you to go and I want her and me to be normal, again."

Olivia smiled and teased him, "That's because you're exactly like me… we want and we want it now."

He laughed then brought his lips to her ear and whispered, "It's gonna get hard Mom. God is gonna ask us to do things we won't want to do… but we can," he whispered and simply walked away.

Elliot handed a bright red, and currently crying Solomon to Sam who quickly began to sooth him as Hannah began to rub her eyes and take in a ragged breath, all children sat on the plastic chairs and waited for their father to pick tell them it was time.

Olivia stared at her oldest son in shock and confusion and then returned her gaze to Elliot and wanted so badly to stay home.

"I don't want you to go," Elliot whispered and kissed her softly, "I want you to stay with me."

"You and the kids practiced the same speech, didn't you?" she teased and kissed him, "I don't want to go either, but-"

"I know… I'm gonna work on Isaac while your gone, try and get him back into reality. Figure out what he's talking about, you know?"

"Yeah," she exhaled, "Keep my kids safe?"

"Always," he whispered, "Think about me?'

"Always," she smiled softly and kissed his mouth, sipped tenderly from his bottom lip, "Always. There's no way around it."

He grinned, ran his tongue quickly over her lips, tasting her and pulling away, "Get going, I've got kids to bribe with ice cream."

"Love you,"

"Love you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And because disaster comes in all shapes and sizes, Olivia has finally managed to walk into her hotel room…six hours late. A faulty hydraulic line that made all occupants of the plane exit and wait to be re-routed and re-seated, which for Olivia meant, she didn't get her aisle seat like she has had on every flight she has ever taken.

No, not this time. This time her slender frame was wedged like a sardine between two men, each at least three hundred pounds, the one on her right, seriously lacking in hygiene know how and talking about his desire to fill his parents' gas tank with moth balls, while the one on her left seemed to have a serious congestion problem which meant snorting and sucking and building the fattest loogie possible, only to swallow it and she didn't even want to think about the gas that was passed after the meal was passed out.

She'd given up trying to balance work files and a laptop in the scrunched environment, and while she couldn't see wasting the money to sit first class, right now, she seriously wished she had. She'd tossed her head back and closed her eyes and simply let her thoughts wonder about her children. About her husband. About the mysterious message Sam had delivered completely out of the blue.

It was an extreme pleasure to get off of that plane. Only to be met with the reality that the rent-a-car she'd booked was released to someone else because she was hours late. She just wanted out of the air port. That's all she cared about, so when they offered her the Daewoo Laganza, she went with it, not fully understanding that while she drove, her knees would be up to her chest and her head would hit the liner and there would be a blind spot from hell and the weight of her luggage would threaten to lift the front end of the car off the pavement.

But, it was the bouquet of lily's that were placed in on the nightstand of her modest Hotel room that returned her smile. They were lilies and only one person would know that she loved them. She dropped her bags in the entry hall, closed the door and made her way to them. The scent had lifted her lips into a grin, but it was the note that made her blush.

_Call me when you get it. We'll have phone sex. Love you more than you know. – El_

She let out a sob of laughter and placed the card on the table before taking a deep breath and grabbing her lap top bag, placing the computer next to the first outlet she found and allowing it to power on and charge. She started to unpack and hang her clothes when she stumbled upon a narrow box, neatly wrapped and secured with a bow and small card. He was spoiling her even though they were on complete opposite sides of the country. How did she ever hit the man-lotto?

She opened the card, her jaw dropped; her eyes went wide as a healthy blush crept up her neck.

_You were right, It really is life-like. Dinner and a show? Love you more than you know. –El._

She laughed out-loud, a healthy one, mouth wide, eyes bright and watery as she tossed her head back, and then suddenly she stopped, and realization set it. The web-cam wasn't just so the kids could see her. No, it was for something far more interesting for her and Elliot and as she unwrapped the box and peered down at the perfect replication of her husband's penis she stared at the computer and then back to it and knew exactly what he wanted.

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Elliot stirred from his sleep and peered down at the small shape at the end of his bed, "Rookie?" Elliot furrowed his brows and looked down as Isaac, "What's wrong, Son?" he asked and sat up slowly, "Bad dream?"

"I want Mom," he whispered and wiped at his eyes, "She said she would call us and talk to us."

Elliot exhaled and pulled the blankets back, "Hop in."

"I want her," Isaac began to sob not so much as moving from his position, "I want my mom!"

Elliot moved quickly, picked his son up and brought him close to him, "Hey, buddy, where are you're clothes, huh?"

"It's hot," he whined, "and only my mom knows how to fix the hot."

Elliot held him tighter and laid him softly in the bed, the sheet tucked around his small body, "Son, you're actually cold… get warm."

"I want mom!" Isaac screeched, "She said she call me and she lied! She's gonna be gone again!"

"No," Elliot whispered and stretched out next to him pulling the covers back over him and his small son, "No, do you remember what I told you? Where she is it's a different time so she might call us super late. Remember she called and said she had to get on a different plane? She's just late is all. She loves you, Rookie," Elliot said softly, "she does, I promise you she'll call and I'll wake you up."

Isaac sniffled and snuggled deeper into the blankets, "School is small."

Elliot exhaled. Back to square one.

Damnit.

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"Daddy?" Hannah whispered and tugged on his hand, "Daddy, I want mommy."

Elliot's eyes fluttered open and peered at the clock, "Morning Glory," Elliot said groggily, "Sweetheart, it's still a little early where mom is.. she'll call when she can, I promise."

"Daddy," Hannah whispered softly, "I miss my Mommy."

Elliot groaned and pulled the covers back, "Hop in princess, get warm."

Hannah grinned, "I getted Mama's piwow?"

Elliot smiled, "You can share it with me."

Hannah wedged her slender body between her brother and father, "You miss Mommy, too, Daddy?"

Elliot smiled sleepily and cupped his daughter's cheek, "Yeah, Morning Glory. I don't like it when Mom is gone, either."

"Nightie Daddy," Hannah whispered and snuggled as close to her father as possible and Elliot knew it had nothing to do with getting close to him. It had everything to do with getting more of her mother's pillow.

And just as Hannah's breathing evened out and Isaac sprawled out on his back, and Elliot's eyes began to flutter with sleep he felt another tug on his hand, "Daddy!"

It had to be Solomon because he was the only one who didn't understand the concept of a whisper, "Daddy!"

"Shhh!" Elliot smiled and looked down at him, "Are you nuts? It's late."

Solomon grinned, "I nuts. I want Mommer."

Elliot plopped his head onto the pillow, "Of course you do," he exhaled and pulled back the covers, "Hop-" Solomon didn't wait for the complete invitation, he hopped in, crawled painfully over his father's body, without regard for his sleeping sister or brother and hunted around on his mother's side of the bed until he found what he was looking for. Her NYPD t-shirt she said she'd leave out just for him. And she did.

He pulled it close to him, crawled back over his brother and sister who were so dead to the world they didn't seem bothered by it. He wedged himself between his father and sister, "Daddy, move. I'wan, Mommer's piwow."

Elliot exhaled and moved his head just a touch, letting his nose stay just to the side of the pillow as Solomon snuggled in close, his arm immediately wrapping around his sister before falling fast asleep with his t-shirt just as close.

And exactly one hour later, to Elliot's surprise he felt the pushing and pulling of his shoulder by his oldest son. He didn't open his eyes, "Samuel… there is no room in this bed for a boy your size."

Sam exhaled sadly, "But… Mom always makes room."

"Sam… you're thirteen."

Sam bowed his head, "Mom never cared."

Elliot opened his eyes and smirked, "Go sleep by Isaac, you kick like-"

"A mule, I know."

Elliot exhaled as Sam slipped in on his mother's side of the bed and curled up tight, "Dad?"

"Son?"

"When is mom coming home?"

Elliot looked at the alarm clock, "Not soon enough."

"We're men," Sam whispered, "But without mom… we suck."

Elliot smiled, "You're absolutely right, Sam."

"Night, Dad."

"Night." Elliot exhaled and stared at the ceiling, he'd went from sleeping on his wife's side of the bed, her scent caressing his body into sleep as he laid his head on her pillow, imagined it to be the comfort of her breast, to sleeping on his side of the bed, on the extreme edge of the mattress, his three-year-olds occupying her pillow, and her shirt, his oldest and his terror occupying her space.

He wanted her home.

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Cold water. Not hot. Cold. Apparently, that was all that was available at the hotel, but that was just fine. The weather was hot and sticky and it didn't bother Olivia a bit to walk around naked in her room as she dried her hair with a towel. She stopped only when she saw the blinking light of her cell phone that indicated she'd missed a call.

She yawned, the jetlag, killing her already. Flipping open the cell phone she grinned, she hadn't missed a call, she'd missed a text from Elliot. She opened it and smiled at the picture attached, Elliot and the kids all crammed into the bed, them sound asleep, Elliot with a knowing smirk, his message, "Please call. We miss you."

She grinned dialed the phone and sat naked on her bed.

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He answered it before the first ring could finish, "Hi," he whispered into the phone.

"Hi," she smiled and held her phone up to look at the picture again. "Looks like the kids wanted to sleep with Daddy, huh?"

"Hardly," he chuckled and turned to his side to look at them. "They wanted, Mommy and this was as close as they could get."

She laughed, "I got your flowers… they're beautiful, thank you."

Elliot grinned and stood, adjusting the covers over the children and softly walking out of the room and into the hallway, "What else did you get of mine?"

"You've got a ridiculous grin on your face, right now, don't you?" she laughed and slipped into the cool of her sheets.

"I do… you're biting your bottom lip, aren't you?"

She grinned, let her lip fall from the grip of her teeth and pulled the covers over her breast, "My flight was miserable."

He smiled and leaned back in his chair, "Did you unpack?"

"Yeah… when did you have time? I wanted to do it with you," she said softly.

He powered his computer on and blushed, "It's pretty life-like isn't it?"

"Mmmm, bigger in real life."

He laughed aloud, "Ego stroke."

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm exhausted, tonight," she said softly, "But, I also noticed you packed me some of those condoms I like…nice."

He smiled softly, shut down his computer and exhaled, "I better let you sleep then."

"Tomorrow night? You. Me. Phone sex?"

"With web cam?"

She chuckled softly, "Yeah… sounds like a date… which in its self sounds odd."

"We're wanting to try new things," Elliot said softly. "This is new."

"Yeah, it is… can you wake the kids? Or hold the phone to their ears, I told them I'd call."

He smiled, lugged himself back into the room and sat softly on the bed, "Hey sweetheart," Elliot whispered into Hannah's ear, "Mom is on th-"

"Mommer!" Solomon yelled and immediately sat up climbing into Elliot's lap, reaching for the phone.

"Mom?" Isaac grumbled and rolled over, "I want to talk to mom."

"Mom!" Sam grinned, "Mom, you're home?"

Elliot smiled, "No, son… she's on the phone."

"Elliot," Olivia's voice rang through the receiver, "Honey, put me on speaker phone."

Elliot pushed the button and watched as his kids moved around the bed like ravenous dogs having been thrown a bone, "Mommer!"

"Hey, honey! Hi kids!" She smiled into the phone, "I miss you guys."

"I got my shirt!" Solomon yelled into the phone.

"And I gotted to sleep on your piwow," Hannah giggled into the phone.

"When you coming home?" Isaac asked into the phone.

"Baby, I've only been gone a few hours. I just wanted to call and tell you guys good night."

"But," Sam exhaled, "Mom… come home, it's going to get hard here."

Elliot furrowed his brows and looked at Sam who was oblivious to his stare.

"Honey," Olivia's voice dropped, "why are you being so cryptic?"

Sam exhaled, stood and shook his head, "Just come home! Please! My stomach hurts and I want you home. I need you home!"

"Hon-"

"Ah!" Sam growled, "Never mind!" he snapped and walked out of the room.

"Did he walk away?" Olivia asked.

"He a gonner, mommy." Hannah said sadly, "He sad."

"I know honey… Elliot will you-"

"I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Thank you… I love you guys… sleep tight and be nice to daddy, okay?"

"Bye mom! Love you!" The kids sang in unison.

"I love you, Liv," Elliot whispered into the phone.

"Love you, too. Night, Elliot."

"Night."

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"Alex!" Elliot grinned, "Thanks for coming."

"We'll… he's still on my roster. Still care about him, and he's my nephew."

"Well, he's very pissed off," Elliot exhaled, "Liv is supposed to be home in two days and she's going to flip her lid when she finds out I haven't been able to get Isaac to class since she left."

Alex smiled and stepped past him, "Where is he?"

"His room."

"What happened?"

"I was trying to get him ready… we went over his alphabet with the flashcards Liv made for him and then when I asked him to do it again with the school flash card he flipped out on me."

Alex exhaled and slipped into the kitchen chair, "They want me to put him in a diagnostic class." she whispered, "I haven't told, Oliviai…but, if we can't get him settled, Elliot… that's where he's going."

"What's that?"

Alex groaned and rubbed her temple, "Well… Olivia gave us permission to test him… he's a smart little boy. No special ed concerns but… Elliot, the school psychologist is-"

"School shrink?" he asked and sat across from her as Hannah peeked around the corner.

"Auntie Al!"

"Hey, you!" Alex grinned, "Come here!"

Hannah ran to Alex and quickly jumped into her lap, a kiss and hug given, "You come here to make fart knocker better?"

"Here to give him his homework and talk to your father. Thomas is waiting for me."

"I like Thomas." Hannah smiled, "Mom really likes him, too. She no here. She far away, but not like Kermit," she bowed her head and exhaled, "Kermit a gonner."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Alex whispered softly and kissed Hannah's cheek. "Can you go play and give us a few minutes?"

Hannah grinned, "I go tease Solo?"

"Sounds good to me," Alex laughed and helped her off of her lap.

"Alex?" Elliot exhaled, "What's a diagnostic?"

"He'd be there for 60 to 90 days. It's a classroom, but the teachers are specialist-"

"Specialist? For what?"

Alex tilted her head, "Elliot… he goes ballistic whenever he goes into a time out. He won't work. He won't advance if he refuses to work."

"Specialist for what?" Elliot whispered, "Tell me."

"They diagnose, ED children-"

"Emotional disturbances?"

"Among other things… but, they could also say he's an average five year old who has an extreme disdain for school."

"You think this is best for him?"

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, "I've had a behavior team come in and observe him, I've had more experienced colleagues come in… they all rec-"

"I don't care about them… what are you telling me?"

She exhaled, tilted her head, "I think we should wait until Olivia gets back and then seriously consider it."

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And because Disaster comes in all shapes an sizes Elliot has learned to prepare himself for everything, but still has not learned that the very thing he doesn't prepare himself for, is the very thing that will arise and knock him off center. Deter him from his course.

Strain his marriage.

He flips quickly through the mail, glances up at the clock and decides he has five minutes before he has to wake up Isaac who was sent home early from school and then go pick up Solo and Hannah from the gym day care and lastly he needed to pick up Sam who has been camped out, religiously at Crystal's house.

There has been no phone sex.

Elliot has been spread thinner than the ribbed condoms he's packed for his wife to add to her fun while she's away, and the kids have not offered him a reprieve. Nothing. No grace and surely there has been no mercy.

Not after he put Mayonnaise on Sam's sand which. Oops.

There has been no mercy when Isaac refuses to get in the shower, there has been no mercy every morning that Hannah asks if Kermit has come back and there has been no mercy when Solomon cries every night at one o'clock in the morning for his mother to take him potty because it's extra scary.

Olivia has kept her promise and called nightly, the entire family has been able to see each other or at least hear one another, but for Elliot and Olivia it hasn't gone any further. She has seen his exhaustion and he has seen hers. Navigating an unfamiliar city, dealing with the angst of being from home, the complexity of the business she found herself in, it all bore a worried expression on her face as well, and so, after the kids fell asleep to the sound of their mother's voice and Elliot quickly puts them in their beds, they have stayed up and talked about everything and nothing but he has never told her that Isaac is getting increasingly worse.

But, as he flips through the mail, there is one return address that catches his eye and he is instantly enraged. He pulls the letter from the pack and opens it in anger, just has he has done to the four others that have come to their home in the last three months. He reads it, curses out loud that the man still has the audacity to want to see his wife.

He takes the stupid cane he's walked with all morning because he managed to trip over a pair of shoes left out and now he's so sore he can't see straight, and he struggles down the hallway to their bedroom and opens the top drawer to his nightstand and places the letter in his bible with the others before closing it and telling him self that Olivia would never want to know about them anyway.

He stands to his feet slowly and is just about to make it out of the front door of his home when his cell phone rings.

"Hello? This is Elliot."

"Mr. Stabler?" The familiar voice chimes in, "We have the results of your lab test."

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"How have you been feeling?" Sam asked softly as the warm sun flooded over he and Crystal's bodies while they laid on the grace of her back yard.

"Okay… little, pain but at least I'm moving around, right?"

Sam smiled softly, "Right," he paused for a short moment and turned to her, "Have you seen your face, yet?... I'm sorry. That was stupi-"

"It's okay," she said and gently touched his forearm. "I'm not offended."

"I can be a jerk."

"This is true… but, it was an innocent question. I haven't taken the gauze off… part of me doesn't want to see it."

"Why? I thought that was the reason you did it."

"It was," she admitted and sat up slowly before standing, "Your father will be here soon."

Sam stood and felt for her, instantly taking hold of her hand and stepping closer to her, "Please forgive me."

Crystal squeezed his hand gently, "I already did, Samuel… it's over."

"Then, please… I want us back to normal."

"We are normal, well at least I am," she smiled and touched his face, "that was a joke."

Her touch on his skin felt entirely different than it had ever felt before and suddenly, his heart beat just a little faster and Samuel Stabler was nervous around his best friend, "I've never apologized for asking a question."

"Then don't start now, silly… it was fine."

He furrowed his brow, "Let me…"

"Let you what?" she asked peering up into his face that, while his eyes would never look solely into hers, his face always would. She always knew when he was thinking and focusing only on her.

He licked his lips, he was too close to her. It was weird, suddenly, the way they were, but instead of stepping back, he stepped closer, "Let me, take off the bandages… I'll tell you how beautiful you are."

If he could see, he'd see an intense blush crawl up her neck, something that has never happened to her. Something that his words had never had the power of doing, until this sudden shift as they stood outside of her mother and father's house, the warm sun lowering slowly as the day crept on, the smell of freshly cut lawn hitting Sam's nostrils but having no competition with the scent of Crystal that was so ingrained into his memory, nothing could ever take it away.

"I want," he touched her cheek that he knew was unbandaged softly, "I want to feel you."

She smiled bashfully, remembered Sam who has stuck up for her the very first day he saw her and every other day after that even when it meant he would be teased. At thirteen years old, she knows him like they've been friends for forty or fifty years, she knows his frustrations, she knows his fears and she knows that sly smile he has, but most importantly she knows his heart.

Knows that beyond all the anger he occasionally has, he is abundantly pure.

"Okay," Crystal whispered softly, "but… maybe not outside. I'd like to see it and there isn't a mirror out here."

He nodded softly, "Kay… where?"

"Come on," Crystal smiled and took his hand leading him back into their home.

She'd never done that. Sure she's led him before, but more along the lines of a sighted person leading a blind person. Today, she has taken his hand, not his elbow. She has taken his hand, laced her fingers with his and walked him into her home, into what he knows from their path is the restroom.

He feels a discomfort in his crotch.

"Maybe, you could just change the bandage, huh? My mom does it three times a day, so, I know how to do it too, I'll help you."

"Okay," he nodded and waited for her. Sam could hear the rustling of bandage packaging, could smell ointment but couldn't identify why his pants were getting more uncomfortable, and worse yet, the more uncomfortable they got the closer her wanted to get to her.

"Here," she said softly and brought his hand to her bandaged cheek, "careful, it's sore, but… peel it softly."

"Stitches?"

"Taken out this morning. Most of it is the skin graph though."

He bit his bottom lip and heard the adhesive part with her skin, heard her hiss, "I'm sorry."

"No, just go." she encouraged him and he suddenly felt her hand on his hip.

His penis jumped. He swallowed but couldn't stop touching her. Couldn't walk away and didn't know what he was supposed to do. "Here," he whispered when he finally removed the bandaged.

She took it and placed it on the counter avoiding the mirror, "Is it bad?"

Sam smirked, "Don't know. I'm blind, remember."

"Punkus."

He chuckled and then quieted himself and slowly raised his hand to touch her face. He felt her pull back at his touch and then still for him to touch her skin again. He felt the rise and fall of the scar, felt the texture of the graphed skin, wondered momentarily if he should even be touching it, but his crotch was doing things that were so confusing.

He felt the smoothness of her cheek, traced further down and crossed back over the scar, wanting so badly to touch her lips with his fingers and he couldn't understand why. He's never wanted to do that. It sounded silly really but that was what his crotch was telling him to do.

Crystal saw the expression on his face, felt his breath fall faster over her adolescent features, "Am… I that ugly that I scare you now?"

He stilled instantly, for a moment he was happy his pants were loosening up, but he certainly didn't like what she'd just said, "You're Crystal. Magnificent."

She chuckled, "Can you spell that?"

He smirked, "Probably not, but… you're so pretty, Crystal. I'm sorry I was mean to you about the surgery and I'm not saying you weren't pretty before the surgery, I'm saying that you're still pretty."

She smiled and sniffled before bowing her head.

He furrowed his brows, "Hey? Why are you crying?"

She looked up, sniffled again, "I just… needed to know that you weren't gonna run scared. That you would still see me as me."

Slowly, he touched her face again and her hand returned to his side. Timidly, he obeyed his pants and traced her skin until he felt her lips and he's not sure he's ever felt something so soft, "I want to kiss you," he blurted and then dropped his hand and groaned. He took a step back.

Crystal saw his embarrassment and smiled, "Don't be embarrassed."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't' be sorry."

"I just-"

"You asked me for something," she smiled and raised up on her tiptoes, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Sam gasped, his brows raised instantly and his mouth opened turning directly to her lips and pressing his against hers. Her lower lip rested in the crevice of his and he tasted her. His hands immediately resting on her hips and suddenly he realizes exactly why his mom and dad do this, but he still doesn't understand why his penis is acting more like an AT &T customer and trying to reach out and 'touch' her.

Crystal pulled back first, his stunned expression still very evident. She smiled, "Open your mouth."

"Huh? Why-" and before Sam could finish asking why she wanted his mouth open she'd closed her lips over his and passed her tongue gently into the pureness of his mouth.

He pulled back immediately and blushed furiously, his fingertips digging into her.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, "I thought you wanted to try this?"

"I do," he nodded trying to figure out how to exhale, "But... Crystal, I don't…exactly know what to do."

She shrugged, "Either do I, but I see it on my mom's shows sometimes… they stick their tongues in each other's mouths and move side to side."

He understood, breathed in, but his body was failing him on breathing out and what was worse was that his penis was throbbing like it never had been before, "Okay," he nodded softly and finally exhaled.

Samuel felt her lips against his and he felt her hot breath, smelled the Kool-Aide they'd just consumed outside and timidly pushed his tongue into her mouth. He actually felt her smile around him and it made his crotch hurt even more. There was spit everywhere between the two of them but he wanted to touch her the world over. He's never considered, not for one second what could be under her t-shirt, but as he thought and wondered about it, for just a moment, as she cupped his cheek in his hand, his hips suddenly lurched and he felt a wetness against the fabric of his boxers that he'd never felt before.

He stumbled back, hit his head on the towel hook that told him he needed to turn left to get out. He was so frantic, and suddenly abundantly scared.

"Samuel?" Crystal furrowed her brow, "I'm sor-"

"I have to go," he shook his head and bolted, running into the closed door and smacking his nose hard against it. He felt the blood as he opened the door and ran.

"Sam?" Crystal's father met him at the end of the hall, "your father just pul-"

"I'm sorry!" Sam yelled in distress and fumbled for his things running haphazardly outside and down the porch where he stumbled and fell. He stood, tripped over the strap of his book bag and fell again, only into his father's arms this time.

"Hey!" Elliot said softly, "What happened? What's the matter?"

"Dad!" Sam shook his head, tears and blood and dirt mixing on his features, "Dad, we have to go! "

"Sam-"

"Please!" Sam pleaded and in moments Elliot had him in the car and they were pulling out onto the road.

"Sam?" Elliot said softly, "What happened? Did you and Crystal get into it again? Did her parents hurt you?"

Sam shook his head and shifted in his seat, "No," he cried, "No. I just want to go home and go to sleep."

Elliot exhaled, "Okay."

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"Why are we going to Aunt Casey's?" Sam asked softly, "Why are you upset, Dad?"

"I'm not upset, Sam."

"Yes you are. Was it because I was scared?"

"No."

"Was it because Crystal's parents called you?"

"No," Elliot exhaled, "I just…. I don't know."

Sam furrowed his brows, "Dad… I need you. Please don't make us go away tonight, Mom isn't here and I'm scared."

Selfishly, all Elliot had floating around in his head, was not the fact that Sam was terrified, it was not the fact that Isaac had vomited all over the house or even that Solomon and Hannah had snuggled in the same bed, no, all Elliot had floating in his mind was the diagnoses the doctor had given him before he picked up his kids.

He'd never get her pregnant. They'd never have another child.

"Sam, you'll do fine with Uncle Paul and Aunt Casey, they are looking forward to seeing you today and I just… I need some space."

"Space?" Sam shook his head, "Mom never needs space-"

"I'M NOT YOUR MOTHER!" Elliot suddenly snapped, "Give me a break here!"

Sam's face twisted in confusion and anger, "I know your not! 'Cause mom actually gives a damn about me!" he hollered and slid out of the car, "Come on, guys,' he snapped and helped his sister from her car seat, placing her on the cement.

Elliot groaned and rested his forehead on the steering wheel, "I'm sorry, Sam."

"No you're not," Sam's voice broke as he helped the rest out of the vehicle, "Isaac, help me out, I need the front door."

"Sam!" Elliot hollered from the car and quickly got out.

"Just go get your space!" Sam screeched, "I don't need you!"

"Samuel! That's enough!"

"Yeah, Sammy," Hannah giggled and followed him up the path only to be met by Paul who stepped out of the house in confusion.

"Did you just yell at your father?" He asked Sam firmly.

"Who cares?" Sam barked, "He doesn't. He misses my swim meets and all he does is yell now, and I want him," Sam began to cry and reached out for Paul, "and he doesn't want me uncle Paul."

Paul rubbed Sam's back softly as Casey finally made her way to the group and looked on in confusion. Elliot ran his hand through his hair and shook his head in defeat, "Sam-"

"Make him go away, Uncle Paul," Sam whispered and hugged him tighter, "Please?"

Elliot approached the group and Paul felt Sam shake, "It's Okay, Elliot…we've got it. We'll give you a call, huh?" he said in an effort to sooth everyone.

Elliot visibly deflated and dropped the bag of clothes he'd brought for the visit, "Sam," Elliot said softly, "I'm sorry, Son."

Sam released his hold on Paul and sidestepped him into the home and out of his father's sight.

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How is it possible to get sandwiched between two much larger people on the return flight as well? That is what Olivia would like to know, but what she would really like to know was why she received a phone call from a frantic Samuel at one O'clock in the morning from the Novak's house and not their own. What she'd really like to know is why Elliot hadn't picked up his phone or the house phone or the office phone or why Santos hasn't seen him in two days or why he didn't meet her on the computer the last two days.

All she knows is that the plane is not landing fast enough.

But what she also knows is that disaster comes in all shapes and sizes and she's not sure what's going on, but it's not good. The last time Elliot didn't answer his phone she almost never saw him again.

"You okay, lady?" A rather large and hairy man asked her.

"Fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Thanks. I appreciate that… look when we land, do you mind if I cut?"

He smiled, "With a body like that… I don't mind you being in front."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "On a typical day I'd cut your balls off and feed them to you."

He laughed out loud, "Thank goodness you're having a crappy day then, huh?"

She arched a brow and then leveled it, "Your lucky day."

And within minutes the plane had landed and she'd did exactly what she said she would, cut him and then the person in front of that and then the next, anything to get out of the plane faster and figure out what in the hell was going on. She'd called Alex who said she'd talked to Elliot and he seemed fine. She called the Novak's back after Sam had been less than forthcoming about his hysteria and they'd encouraged her to come home as soon as possible. To get to Elliot as soon as possible.

That concerned her but didn't necessarily freak her until they told her not to waste time by coming for the kids, but to get to the house.

To call a cab because Elliot wouldn't be getting her from the airport.

She'd tossed the suitcases into the back of the cab like a man tosses hay and told the cabbie the address. She called the house time and time again, slamming the phone shut each time Elliot didn't pick up before growling loud enough in frustration that the cabbie glanced into the rear view mirror, "You okay?"

"Just drive," she muttered and was relieved when they'd finally pulled into her driveway. She'd dropped him every cent she had on her unconcerned with the amount and grabbed her luggage before stopping at the front door, that wasn't closed. Quietly, she placed her luggage on the floor and carefully stepped into her home, staying close to the wall.

White flashed into her memory, then Ganzner, could he still be alive? Could Oliver come? Could he have been released and she didn't know? She took a deep breath, cleared the hall with a vase in her hand as her only weapon and then frowned when she caught the smell of vomit. She lowered the vase, returned it to it's stand and furrowed her brow, no sign of Elliot.

"El?" she called into the house and made her way to the kitchen, "Elliot? What's going on? You were supposed to pick me up and yo-" she stopped when she came to the crumpled up letter on the counter, it's letter head from the doctor's office. No envelope, it must have been given to him instead of mailed.

She exhaled, straightened it out and read the lab results. She closed her eyes and suddenly everything was perfectly clear as to why she couldn't reach him and why their kids were somewhere else.

Safe.

"Elliot?" she called again into the house and made her way through the hall the smell of vomit becoming stronger until she stepped into their room, or should she say their war zone.

Every picture had been torn from the wall, shards of glass lay scattered over the brown of the hard wood floor. The nightstands over turned, his cane stuck in the wall. Bottles of liquor strewn about the room.

Empty.

Dresser contents pulled out and thrown here and there, and the only thing that seemed to not have endured his wrath was the small poem she'd given him the day they were married.

She wanted to kill him with everything she had. She wanted to drag his drunk butt right off of that bed, drag his naked body over every last shard of glass and then beat the crap out of him with his cane just as soon as she pulled it out of the wall.

How in the hell do you get a cane to stick inside of a wall, anyway?

She ran her hands through her hair, not sure what to do. This was not what she was expecting to come home to. Just Wednesday she'd dreamed they had sex the moment he picked her up from the airport and got her into the truck.

How was she supposed to plan for this?

Carefully, she walked to the bed, the glass crunching and snapping under the weight of her steps and just before as she finally decides she's not going to be quiet about it this time, she sees his body. Naked and scarred and different form the man she married. She sees the surgery used to reconstruct his cheek, sees the mangled legs and lines of exploratory surgery over his torso and she understands in a second, his fury.

Olivia exhaled and rested her hand on his naval, moving slowly up to his chest as she leaned down and kissed the battered flesh of his cheek, "Wake up, Elliot," she whispered keeping her voice in check, "Wake up, baby. Got to get you in the shower."

He grumbled and moved to roll. She held his shoulder, "No. No, just open your eyes," she said softly and kissed his cheek again. His eyes fluttered open and he groaned once her face was in focus. He was so dead.

"Crappy, night?" she smiled compassionately, "I thought my week was rough."

He furrowed his brows and she saw the complete loss of hope in his eyes, the complete sense of brokenness and self hate, "Scoot over," she whispered softly and climbed into bed beside him without care of her clothing or shoes. He moved to roll away and she simply wrapped her arms around him and held him firmly against her body, "I love you."

And that was all it took to destroy him.

He covered her hands with his, held them tight to his chest and simply sobbed has hard and as brokenly as Sam had cried when he called her. Olivia kissed his shoulder adoringly and exhaled "I saw the paper. It doesn't mean you're less of a man, Elliot. It doesn't I promise you."

But her promise had no power to fix his hurt. Not tonight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wake up, Elliot." Olivia whispered into his ear and rubbed his chest, "We need to get ready."

He muttered in his sleep, "Not going anywhere."

She exhaled, stood and heard the glass crunch under her again, "I called Casey and Paul, they're keeping the kids for another day. You need to get up, I'll help you get ready but you're going to an A.A. meeting today, and while your there I need to go talk to Sam, what is he all fired up about? Was he here for all of this?" she asked waving to what was left of the room.

"No," Elliot exhaled and sat slowly, his head pounding, "I yelled at him, Liv… I'm so sorry."

She turned to him and saw the fresh tears make their way down his cheek, "I think," she said softly and sat next to him, her hand on his naked thigh, "that it will be more meaningful if you said it to him."

"I called last night," Elliot exhaled, "Liv, he wants nothing to do with me."

She smirked, "He said you put mayo on his sandwich."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and struggled not to sob, "He needed me and I pushed him away, he pleaded to stay home with me, he was so upset."

Olivia tilted her head and continued to listen to him mumble about the kids, about the lab test and her and the house before she covered his mouth with her palm, "Shhh," she whispered and kissed his forehead, "It'll be okay. Just a speed bump. Sam is Sam, you know he has to really think things through."

Elliot exhaled and stood before she could tell him not to. He groaned in pain and instantly went back to the bed, his feet dripping in fresh blood.

"There's glass all over," she said softly and stood, taking his foot in hand and pulling gently at a shard of glass before retrieving another two from his other foot and handing him slippers, "Go shower, I'll bring you towels and then we'll go."

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Olivia gripped the steering wheel of the SUV waiting for him to come outside. She was trying so hard to approach this breakdown a different way. To not repeat their last mistakes. To not kill him.

He stumbled out of the house. Shrinking back and wincing at the sunlight and trying to steady himself on his feet without the help of a cane. He slid slowly into the passenger side of the car and held his breath as she began to pull out.

He exhaled in relief when she pulled out onto the road and reached over to him, covering his hand with hers, "Why didn't you call me?"

"Why aren't you yelling?" he asked softly.

She squeezed his hand gently, "That doesn't get us very far. You need me right now. I'm angry, yeah, but in a different way."

"I'm sorry."

"Prove it to me," she whispered, "make this right. Whatever happened with you and Sam, make it right tomorrow-"

"Tomorrow?"

She exhaled and still held his hand, "The alcohol is still on you… they don't deserve that. I won't let them around you like this, I'm sorry. I love you. I'll stand next to you and get you the help you need, but I won't put them through this."

He nodded shamefully, "You're right."

"It's not about being right," she whispered as she continued to drive. "I'm in love with you Elliot. You're mine, everything about you. Even the alcohol. I had it wrong last time. I walked away because I couldn't believe you were doing that to me, but I had it wrong. You're doing this to yourself. I'll stand next to you. I'll take you to meeting after meeting and I'll help you make it right with Sam, but ultimately, it's up to you if you're getting better. We're strong, right now Elliot, we're doing well. The ball is in your court."

He exhaled, kissed her hand in his, "I woke up in the middle of the night and I saw you and I thought I had to be dreaming, because… I thought for sure, you'd be gone."

She pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned off the ignition before cupping his face and kissing his lips softly, "For better or worse… we made that deal twice. You didn't turn your back on me when Casey pulled me out of a bar-"

"That was a one time deal."

"So, then make this a one time deal," she said softly, "Make this the last time."

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"Mommer!" Solomon yelled in sheer happiness and bolted from the couch followed by a giggling Hannah and to Olivia's surprise a grinning Isaac.

"Mom!" Isaac hugged her tightly, "Missed you!"

"Missed you all, too!" she laughed and kneeled, "Wow, Solo, you must have grown a whole foot!"

"I big, boy," he said proudly.

"Eat's like Sam," Casey smiled softly from the hall, "How are you?"

Olivia took a deep breath as Paul excused himself from their company, "Fine. Elliot is at a meeting."

Casey nodded, "I didn't ask about him. How are you?"

Olivia smiled softly, "It's just a rough spot Casey. We'll make it."

"Good," Casey smiled and closed the gap to hug her tightly, "Sam is in the room with Addison, they're both asleep."

"Can I wake him?"

"Sure, your kid. Your grumpiness."

Olivia smiled softly, "Bad, huh?"

"Not good."

"Nice."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Samuel?" Olivia whispered and kissed his forehead as Addison's breathing rhythmically continued form his small twin bed.

Sam's eyes slowly opened and he smiled, "Mom? You came."

"Yeah," she whispered and ran her hand through his hair, "Aunt Casey said you weren't a happy camper."

"Don't want to really talk about it."

"Okay," she whispered softly, "Mind if I stretch out next to you?"

He moved over and made a space for her, "Mom?"

"Yeah honey?"

"Why doesn't Dad love me like he used to?"


	7. Visitation

Olivia rubbed her temple trying desperately to stave off the headache that was coming on full blast. Her son's odd question told her that something was desperately wrong with him, he hasn't questioned Elliot's love for him in well over a year and a half and suddenly he was broken all over again.

She looked out of the front window of the car that only she occupied as she waited for the end of Elliot's meeting. He would be in a funk today and she would deal with it as it came. They've both grown by leaps and bounds and this was just another situation by which they could learn more, grow more.

The clouds were gathering as she peered up into the sky and she thought it a little odd considering it was still September, but then it could have been an omen. A really bad one. A sign that they were about to endure more hell than they ever had.

No. Because, she has learned over the past two years that life is what you make of it. No matter what curve ball is thrown at you. She was just about to turn the radio on when she saw the handful of people walking out of the meeting, some laughing and chatting, some walking as quickly as possible away but only one had the look of pure dejection, shame and utter humiliation. Not to mention the fact that he looked hung over.

Instead of waiting in the vehicle for him, she felt her hand move on its own will as it unfastened the safety belt, her hips twisting until she was out of the car and walking to him. She'd never done it before, walked to meet him, never walked past the people that he went to the meetings with, never quite supported him in this like she should.

Like the other spouses that she saw.

She saw the look of shock on his face as he stopped dead in his tracks and immediately started walking to her again as if to hide his shock. To hide the fact that he'd always wanted her support. Always wanted her to meet him, and never had the guts to ask her to because he knew that she would be humiliated.

Yet here she was.

"Hi," Elliot said softly almost timidly as he stopped in his tracks not exactly sure what to do.

She smiled gently, tilted her head and made her way closer before she hooked her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips. She was soft against his mouth and he didn't understand this sudden change. Really, she should have been throwing something at him and here she was, not just kissing him but caressing him. Loving him.

She pulled away slowly, rested her forehead against his, "Hi."

He rested his hands on her hips, "You're out of the car," he said softly.

She took in a breath, rested her chin on his shoulder and embraced him with all the strength she had, "I'm in love with you."

He smiled sadly, wrapped his arms around her petite waist until they met at the small of her back, "I know."

"I've made wrong choices before… I want to be here for you. I want-"

"If you hadn't of made those choices," he rubbed her back gently; "we wouldn't have made it."

She exhaled and let her hands run the length of his sides until they rested softly on his hips, "I told you once that if you did this again-"

"You'd leave me," he whispered and held her so much tighter, "please don't," he sobbed.

She shook her head softly and reached behind her to separate his hands from her, "Elliot-"

"Please Liv, I'm begging you-"

"And I'm telling you," she said softly and raised her hand to cup his face. Her tears suddenly making her words hide deep within her throat.

"What? Please don't go."

She sniffled and let out a half laugh, as she shook her head, "No. You've got it wrong El I'm not leaving," she said hoarsely, "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. Not ever again."

He exhaled and licked his lips, looking off into the distance, "But you're gonna put me through the ringer aren't you?"

She offered a small smirk and gently laced her hand with his until she successfully had him walking alongside of her, "No. Not this time. It's all up to you now Elliot. Our future, our marriage and our children."

He arched his brows, "You should be pissed."

"I am," she admitted softly, "I'm very angry. I felt like smacking you, but… I keep thinking… you were completely loving to me when I came home plastered… I think I can return the feeling."

"Your situation was a little different… you're not an alchie."

"Maybe not," she said and rubbed the webbing of his hand with her thumb, "but I am your wife… I've made wrong decisions. I haven't stood by you like I should-"

Elliot stopped abruptly and pulled her close to him, "That's not-"

"True?" she whispered as a tear fell free. "It is. I'm trying to fix it. Let me?"

He stared at her in confusion and a touch of humor and simply nodded his head and continued to walk with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey," Elliot knocked softly on Sam's door, "can I come in?"

"If I say no?" Sam grumbled from his bed as he lay sprawled out on his belly.

"I'd respect it," Elliot said softly, "but… I'd really like it if we could talk."

"That's funny… you don't seem to like it when I need you," Sam snapped and rolled to his side curling himself into a ball and pulling a blanket over him.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"No you're not. You're sorry Mom caught you drinking last night."

Elliot's eyes shot up in surprise, his mouth hung agape in shock.

"I'm blind. I'm not stupid."

"Sam-"

"I hear you guys talk sometimes," Sam whispered softly, "I hear you talk about meetings and stress and being tempted… you don't tell me anything, so I can help you, but I hear."

Carefully, Elliot lowered himself to the bed and sat quietly for a few moments. The fact that his son had known something that he and Olivia had tried so desperately to keep from all of their kids bothered him. The fact that his son could now add another reason why he didn't need Elliot bothered him as much as Olivia not wearing her wedding ring did. How had it come to be that a culmination of little things, a build-up of things that, by themselves wouldn't be that tall of a hurdle but together, are devastating Elliot in ways that were far more damaging than a savage beating that left him for dead.

"I'm sorry, Samuel," Elliot said gently.

Sam drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "I know…. me too."

"Can we talk?" Elliot asked and shifted on the bed so that his whole torso faced his son.

Sam slowly rolled to his back and sat up, "About what?"

Elliot shrugged, "You, me… us."

Sam ran his hand through his hair, forward and back and exhaled, "If I don't talk to you… then what happens?"

Elliot smirked, "Your mom will probably lock us in a room until we get this straightened out."

Sam drew in his bottom lip, moistening it before setting it free, "She came to talk to me yesterday, before we came back home… I think she probably took you to one of those 'A' meetings you have?"

Elliot closed his eyes and exhaled, "How much do you actually kn-"

"Enough to know I pray for you a lot," Sam said softly, then suddenly lashed out, "Enough to know that you stopped loving me and enough to know that you don't care when I need you anymore!" he yelled and tossed back the covers of the bed standing to his feet.

"Sam-" 

"Shut up!" Sam yelled, digging his fingers into his hair and tossing his head back, "Stop talking!" he sobbed and made his way to the wall just to his left, letting his forehead touch the cool of the paint before he pulled back and let his forehead thud against the wall again. It was light, but disturbing none the less.

"Samuel," Elliot said softly and made his way to him, "Sam, I love you, I do."

Finally, Sam let his forehead rest, trailed his fingertips to the raised dots on the wall and let his fingers trace them, "I'm so angry, Dad," Sam whispered softly.

"Angry?" Elliot furrowed his brows and touched his son's shoulder softly, felt the intense heat of anger radiate off of his form, "At me?"

Sam sniffled and shook his head against the wall, "Everyone… everything. It doesn't leave me alone, Dad."

"Have you tried the stuff that Ma-"

"The stuff that Mags taught me?" Sam turned slowly and faced his father, his cheeks red and wet, his face anything but peaceful, "It doesn't work," he sobbed slid down the wall into a helpless puddle of Sam. "Nothing works," he cried and hiccupped, "I don't like to cuss and I don't like to be mean, and it just happens."

Sitting next to his son, the very act of squatting to the floor was going to kill his body, but seeing his son so devastated and broken was killing his heart. Elliot slowly lowered himself to the floor and ignored the popping and grinding and aching of his body. He sat close to his son, Sam's legs stretched out in front of him while Elliot's knees bent, his wrist resting softly on the top of them, "What's going on, Son?"

Sam hiccupped, rested his head against the wall, "Dad… I don't know what to do."

"About what?" Elliot encouraged softly, "Huh? I mean, I know I've been making some mistakes here and… I just… I'd like to think that you would still want to talk to your old man, give me a chance?"

"We're gonna need a bigger house… will there be a lot of people here to help make it big or will we move?"

Elliot furrowed his brow, "A bigger house? For what?"

Sam exhaled, pulled his legs up and rested his elbows on his knees, "The babies."

"Babies?" Elliot raised a brow, "what babies? Is your-did your mom tell you she wa-"

"No," Sam smirked, "But you should have heard the happiness in your voice right now, dad."

Elliot frowned, "Why would you say there would be babies here Sam?"

"'Cause there will be."

Elliot tilted his head, "Samuel… I've already explained to you that you're mother and I can't… this isn't funny."

"Satan has asked to sift you like wheat."

Elliot scrunched his face, "Sam this isn't cool."

Sam's face contorted into anger, "You think I'm trying to be mean? See! That's what I'm saying!" Sam yelled, "You don't even listen to me like you used to! You just see the bad and that's all!" he snapped and moved to stand, until Elliot grabbed his arm and brought him back to the floor and wrapped his arms around him.

"That's not true," Elliot whispered into his son's ear.

"Yes it is," Sam said weakly, "It is. You don't listen to me or Isaac!"

"Isaac?" Elliot furrowed his brows, "How can you say that, Son? We've been going through a lot with your brother right now, and you know we try and talk to him as much as we can to figure out what's going on… mom is talking to him right now"

"You talk! But you don't listen!"

"Sam-"

"God gave you two ears and one mouth, that means you're supposed to listen twice as hard and talk half as much!"

Even at his worst, Sam was still a preacher at heart.

"He hates that stupid shower curtain!" Sam grumbled, "It makes him so angry, don't you hear him cry?"

"I do-"

"He hates to go into time outs when it's in the corner part and he hates to be in the back of the SUV! Listen to him!"

Elliot wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders but didn't pull him close, not yet, "I'd like to listen to you first," he said softly, "I'd like to know where all the anger is coming from and I'd like to know why you think there will be babies in the house and I'd like to know what you needed me for-"

Sam shut his eyes tight and tears flowed freely, he was angry, his face was flush, his jaw was set, "I needed you… and you wanted beer."

Elliot swallowed. Nope, Olivia wasn't gonna put him through the ringer because she knew Sam was gonna be brutal. Elliot pulled him close, catching a lump of emotion in his throat, "I'm sorry," he whispered through his own tears and pulled him close to him, "I'm sorry."

Sam sniffled against Elliot's chest, "I love you Dad… but you… you forget about me and it hurts."

"No," Elliot whispered bury his lips into Sam's hair, "No… I've never forgotten about you. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about you."

"You missed my swim meet. You forgot to take me to my voice lesson and… I needed you-"

Elliot took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "You know what?" he asked softly and released Sam, "You're right… I've forgotten to do a lot of things that you and I normally do, but… I've never forgotten you. I've been…"

"Drunk?"

"That's not fair-"

"Sam?" Olivia's voice interrupted and both men jumped.

"Yeah?" Sam said softly and wiped the tears from his face.

"Crystal is-"

"I don't want to talk to her."

Elliot and Olivia furrowed their brows at one another, "Okay," Olivia nodded slowly, "do you want me to tell her you'll call her back?"

"No."

"No?" Elliot and Olivia asked in unison, "What's going on?" Olivia pressed.

Sam exhaled and tossed his head back hitting the wall, "Nothing," he sobbed and began to cry into his palms, "Nothing is wrong."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia leaned the broom against the wall and exhaled at the mess that rested at her feet. Shattered glass that she hadn't taken the time to clean up since Elliot had decided to tear all the framed pictures from the walls. She'd backed away from Sam as he crumbled into his father's arms and wept out of control. She'd wanted to kneel in front of them both, hold them both, make love to one and rock the other. She wanted to tell them both how much she loved them. How amazing they were.

But even more than all of that, she wanted Sam to depend on his father and if she had to turn her back on him to force him to go to Elliot… she'd do it. And she did.

And it is killing her.

Olivia exhaled and ran her hand through her hair before turning around and bending low to salvage the prints, the one of their date in the park, one of their first time in their home. The print of her shadowed and naked form. Them.

She placed prints delicately on the bed, careful not to scratch them or damage them anymore than they probably were. It was the fourth print she'd come across, one that Elliot had added only months ago, the one with Olivia wrestling with all of the kids on the living room floor. Her broad smile, her hair in a sloppy ponytail, glasses. She'd pinned Sam on his belly, his arm behind him in a playful hold as he laughed into the carpet. Isaac had come to his rescue jumping on her back as Solomon joined and Hannah pulled playfully at her mother's arm.

A moment of complete happiness caught with a camera she'd bought Elliot for his birthday. She placed the large print back onto the bed and hung her head, covering her face with her hands as she wept softly.

It was the sound of crunching glass she hadn't yet swept up that got her attention. Her head shot up quickly, her hands immediately covering the evidence of her tears but not quick enough to hide it from her husband. "I'm… sorry," he whispered and stood as close behind her as possible without touching her. "I'm so… incredibly sorry."

She swallowed, pressed her lips together and nodded, trying desperately not to cry, "I'm know," she said hoarsely as she turned her body and looked up at him, her tears, his tears. Always their tears. "Is he okay?"

Elliot took a deep breath, swallowed shook his head, "I've messed up so much with him… missed so many things. He knows I'm a worthless drunk and he knows that I was drinking while he was loosing it," Elliot's face twisted in pain. "He knows I'm a bad father to him," Elliot gasped and exhaled, clutching her hips. "He' knows that-"

"You're his father," Olivia whispered and caressed his face, "You're his father and you're amazing," she smiled softly and kissed him mouth adoringly. "You're a good man."

He shook his head softly, his forehead leaning against hers, "I'm… I'm a failure, Liv."

She framed his face with both hands, kissed his lips again, "You dropped the ball on him… pick it up."

"I don't know how," he exhaled and dug his fingers into her side, "I just… I don't know… anything anymore."

It has taken everything within her not to explode and yell at him and tell him that he's absolutely right, that he did mess up with Sam. The only thing that keeps her temper in check is the fact that, she has messed up with him too. Instead of anger, she has forced herself to be the bringer of peace.

She let her lips graze his gently, let her fingers release the buttons of his shirt, let her palms glide smoothly over his chest before pushing the cotton material off of his shoulders, "Come on," she whispered softly and let the shirt fall to the floor, "I'll run the water for you."

"I'm sorry, Liv-"

"I know," she shook her head more firmly, "I know you are and I know that tomorrow at Viv's is gonna be rough for us, but we'll make it. We always do… we always will."

"Oli-"

"Shhh," she smiled softly and laced her fingers with his before leading him to the bathroom and letting go only to prepare the water. She waited for the steam to start to rise before she moved back to him and frowned, "You jumpin' in the tub with your pants on?" she teased lightly, hoping to relieve him of the misery on his face.

No dice.

"Come here," she said tenderly, but when he wouldn't move-couldn't move. She closed the gap between the two of them and locked her brown eyes onto his wounded blue ones. "You're incredible," she whispered as she began to un buckle his belt, "You're amazing and you're my husband and you're our children's father," she smiled, "you're not getting out of it."

His jaw clenched trying to hold in his emotion, his hands found their way around her waist. "I… love Sam like we made him, I do."

She exhaled softly, ran her palms along his chest, over his shoulders before clasping her fingers behind his neck, "I do too… but, I don't understand why that would bother you, I mean… that's a good thing, right?"

He closed his eyes, shook his head, "If this is… if this is my love- forgetting about Sam… what's gonna happen to the rest of the kids? To the ones that have my blood in them? Will they grow up and hate me? Will they know that their father is a drunk and worthless piece of s-"

She framed his face firmly and forced him to look at her, her voice was just as firm as her touch, "Don't. You. Dare," she said sternly.

"Liv, I-"

"Made a pretty big mistake," she nodded, her fingertips making quick and gentle work of his pants until they hit the floor, "I've made them too and he forgives Elliot. He does. We're raising him to be that kind of person. The kind that loves no matter what," she said softly and slipped her fingers into the side of his boxers forcing them from his hips "We're pretty lucky we're raising him well because it's not just you that messes things up, Elliot… I do too, a lot actually and he loves me and I know he loves you," she assured him and gently kissed the edge of his jaw, "I know he does."

"How?" he whispered, "How do you know I'm not messing him up? How do you know I'm not gonna damage him so bad that he won't be a good guy when he's older, when he's married?"

She kept her cheek against his, brought her arms around him and hugged him tightly, "I know that I know," she whispered and separated slowly, a kiss on him lips, her hand on his cheek, "I think the water is ready… get in, I'll get undressed and join you… if you wa-"

"Yes."

She smirked, kissed him again and slowly turned him, practically having to give him a small push to the tub. He hissed as he stepped in, and kneeled very carefully, using the bars they'd installed specifically so he could raise himself and lower him self without slipping. Okay, and they came in handy during shower sex. Details.

"Scoot forward," Olivia said softly.

Elliot looked up and smiled, "You're naked."

"Did you think I'd get in with pants?"

He chuckled sadly but she was happy to hear the small laugh, "I like you naked."

She smiled, shook her head, "Scoot up, so I can get in behind you."

"Behind me? Why?" he furrowed his brows and tilted his head, "I'll crush you."

She arched her brows at him, tilted his chin up to her lips, "Just do it," she whispered softly and grazed her mouth over his.

He moved up instantly.

She slipped in carefully behind him, her legs outlining his, her lips on the back of his neck by the time she'd gotten herself completely situated. They were silent while she lathered her hands, washed and massaged his back, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and arms, the ripples of his abdomen, "Lie back," she instructed and he slowly complied, the stress of his back against the calm of her chest. Her hands absently finding their way over his chest, her lips near his ear, "I love you."

Elliot took a deep breath, the steam of the bath helping to ease the stress, the comfort and feel of his wife holding him like he would typically hold her making him relax even more. "I don't know what to do."

She kissed the crown of his head, held him tighter, "The only thing you need to know is that you're amazing and that every single person in this house loves you."

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"Whatchya doin' Mommer?" Solomon grinned from the doorway and walked happily into his parents' room.

"STOP!" Olivia commanded.

Solomon started and his toddler features crumbled into fear, "I sowry."

Olivia moved quickly stepping over the glass in the room and picking him up, "Oh, honey… no you didn't do anything wrong. There's glass on the floor still. Mommer is moving a little slow."

He blinked at her, digested her words slowly, "I good boy?"

"Always," she smiled and nuzzled his nose. "Thought you were napping?"

"Yeah," he grinned and framed her face, "but, I'ada tellded you how purdy you is."

Olivia grinned and kissed his cheek before walking him out of the room and standing him on the floor, "Get back in bed, handsome."

"I not sweepies," he protested and raised his hands back up to her. "Where my Daddy?"

"He's getting dressed, he just had a bath."

"'Cause he was extra stinky?"

She laughed and ran her hand over his hair, "Yeah, something like that. Go lie down."

"Not sweepies," he told her again.

"You always say that and then I find you clonked out in some weird spot in the house… beat feet mister. Back in bed."

He groaned, "But I tellded you were purdy."

Her jaw fell open and she smiled, "Flattery will get you nowhere, young man."

He smirked and giggled and fled back to his and Hannah's room. Olivia shook her head and re-entered her own room, reaching for the broom and then stopping when something far more interesting caught the corner of her eye.

Strewn on the floor, next to Elliot's side of the bed, was… his journal.

It has been a clearly understood rule that he doesn't read hers and she doesn't read his. Ever. Unless the other reads something out of it. Which is usually an assignment given from Vivian. Nothing of their own will.

Nothing.

The journals that they keep are places for the thoughts they have, the frustrations, fears and anxieties that haunt them. They are a place for their fears to be expressed and then forgotten about so that they do not overshadow their marriage. It works. They kid with one another, Elliot's journals take up approximately six inches of space in the office bookshelf, while her journals have the lower two shelves in their entirety and she's currently working on the third. While her writing is consistent, since the day they started dating and even before that, Elliot's writing only became noticeable, only became something more than a chicken scratched paragraph every other month, since he almost died in their home.

Since he was nearly killed in their home. Taken from her.

Since then, he writes, often until his damaged hand can no longer take it. He writes as she sleeps next to him. She wakes the very second she feels his arms leave her body to roll to the opposite side. She knows exactly what he'll do. He'll roll to the opposite side, groan in pain as he reaches for the bed side lamp and turn it on. He'll slowly and quietly open the nightstand drawer and then he'll pull out his journal and pen and quietly flip to the proper page.

She'll turn over to her belly, hide her face in the pillow so that she can still see him but he thinks she is still sleeping and then he'll write.

And she watches.

She watches him, on these particular nights, stare at the page and then slowly move his damaged hand, manipulating the pen. She watches his jaw flex in anger, his eyes dull in pain. Tears. She has always wanted, so badly, to push herself up and sit next to him. To comfort him and hold him and see what it is that he is writing. To see what it is that devastates him, still, even with her right next to him. She knows that it would embarrass him so; she always waits a few minutes then snuggles closer to him never betraying him by looking, but always staying near. Always loving.

But, as she looks onto the floor, and sees the journal and scattered envelops about the floor, she is dying to take a gander. Just a peek. She could justify it by saying she'd picked it up and 'accidentally' dropped it. It fell open.

Or, exhaled sharply and marched over to the mess, she could be his wife and lover that he trusts and she could place it in its respective place. She squatted low and picked up the journal almost cursing when it really did fall out of her grasp when a shard of glass that had rested on it stabbed into her skin. She dropped it, shook her hand to dull the pain and then frowned as her eyes focused on one of the letters.

A penmanship she'd recognize anywhere.

One she would never want in her home. Much less her husband's journal.

She forgot about the tiny wound, squatted slowly and gasped, the letter was addressed to her. She'd never seen it. Yet it was here. In her home, but she was still back at square one.

She'd. Never. Seen. It.

So, why was it in Elliot's possession? In his journal that rested right next to their bed. Where they made love!

Vaguely, she heard the sound of the bathroom door open, heard Elliot's voice, but couldn't split her focus enough to stand up and look at him. Not when she was staring in complete shock and mortification of this one letter-

Wait a second.

She could only see that one of the letters were addressed to her, but there were four of them here. Her heart wasn't beating quite the way it was supposed to and the anger that roared within her made her flash hot and burning in a second.

"I said," Elliot laughed softly, "what are you doing, Liv?" he asked walking to her.

Her eyes were wide with shock. Still ignoring him, she slowly reached out and picked up one of the letters that were faced down. Still addressed to her. The return address still the same.

She'd hadn't seen that one either.

Growing more enraged at her husband by the second, or more appropriately, by the letter, Olivia picked up the third one. Same scenario, she picked up the forth and before she could do anything else, her hand instinctively reached up to wipe her tear.

"Liv?"

She cleared her throat, wiped her face on her shoulder and quickly shoved the letters in the journal before standing, "Hi," she cleared her throat and plastered a fake smile.

"Hi," he narrowed his eyes and looked down at her hand. His journal. "Why do you have my journal?"

She sniffled and even though seconds ago she was gonna let this go and address it later, when he was a little stronger… he had no right to have these letters. They weren't even addressed to him.

They clearly said Olivia Benson.

"When you lost it… you dumped your nightstand," she said hoarsely and gave an angry smile.

"I told you I would clean this mess. It's mine and you shouldn't have-"

"Stop it!" she hissed and shoved his shoulder, "How could you, Elliot!"

He furrowed his brows, "What?"

Her eyes widened with anger and clear hostility, in pure aggression she shoved the journal into his chest, "You figure it out!" she snapped and shoved past him.

A little dazed and confused he stared down at the journal and then groaned once he saw the letters sticking out. "Olivia!" he called after her and stopped her just before she left the room. He wrapped his hand around hers and she instantly turned raising her hand ready to slap the hell out of him.

She swung and stopped mid air.

Vivian had managed to help Olivia tame that uncontrollable anger that crept up from time to time. That anger that made her like her mother. That made her Serena Benson instead of Olivia Stabler.

"Aggghh!" she balled her open hand into a fist and yelled in frustration, "I can't even look at you right now!"

"I didn't read them, Liv!" he told her and dropped the journal to the floor, instantly pulling her close to him in hopes she wouldn't leave the house. That they'd fight this one out.

And a fight it was gonna be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dad say's you're pretty pissed at him," Sam exhaled as he and his mother walked slowly along the path next to the road.

"Sam," Olivia wrapped her hand around his shoulders as they walked, "come on. I missed last Saturday… I just want to walk with you."

"I can feel how angry you are," he told her softly, "I can… it's okay to be angry, mom."

"I know," she whispered and kissed the crown of his head, "Thank you for telling me, though."

"I'm angry at him, too… but I love him way more than I'm angry at him… do you?"

She exhaled, "Yeah, son. I do."

"Will you talk to him? He said you won't talk to him."

"Right now, it's not safe for me to talk with him Sam… I'll say things I don't mean and once things are said, you can never take them back."

"I know," he nodded and whispered, "I told Crystal to never call me again."

"What?" Olivia furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "Sam-" 

"It's for the best, mom."

"Sam-"

"It's for the best," he whispered and touched her arm softly, "but… you've got to talk to Dad."

"Sam-"

"Satan has asked to sift you as wheat."

She furrowed her brow, "What?"

"Mom," Sam stopped and faced her, the September breeze making the evening walk a little more tolerable, "God loves you."

She shook her head softly, "Sam… I'm not questioning God's love."

"You shouldn't question Dad's-"

"I'm not Sam… it just… sometimes things are complicated and I have to make sure I'm thinking logically or I get myself into trouble."

"Like trying to kill Richard White?"

Her mouth fell open, her eyes went wide, "Sam-"

"I discovered Micro Fishies," he smirked. "Crystal helped me, last year. We wanted to do a report on a local hero and I picked you and dad… a lot of interesting articles she read to me."

Olivia licked her lips, "You- you never said anything."

He exhaled, "I know…. you try to set really good examples for Me and Isaac and the monsters, but Mom… you and Dad need each other now more than ever, so whatever it is that you guys are going through, you've got to get it settled because you are going to be sifted."

"How do you know?" she smirked. "You a prophet?"

His nostrils flared, "Not funny."

"I'm sorry."

"Have I ever been wrong?"

She thought about it and a tinge of fear struck her, "Come to think of it… no."

"Call it what you want, Mom… you and Dad are gonna be sifted."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They have attended church regularly; in fact, they pick up Thomas on behalf of Robert's request. He meets them in the front of his home and Olivia knows that Robert and Alex must fight every single Sunday that Thomas goes to church. And even though Alex never says a negative word to any of the Stabler's for taking her son, Olivia knows Robert get's chewed apart.

And because she had attended church regularly, now, Olivia knows exactly what Sam is talking about. She and Elliot will be sifted. To see if they can stand. To see if their faith will hold.

How can they be sifted together when she couldn't even be in the same room with him right now?

And more importantly, how could Sam offer up advise on repairing a relationship when he just severed one without explanation to anyone? She had pushed him and prodded him for answers on their way back to their home but he was a rock until he got to the porch. He'd started to break and she told him that he needed to go to his father.

His nostrils flared for the second time in an hour and he swallowed before angrily walking away from her and into the house. She'd walked in behind him just as dejected. Hannah and Solomon and Isaac were with Casey and Paul who insisted on having the kids over for a fun night with Addison.

Sam had taken the initiative to get out of the house and away from the explosion of hurt and anger he knew was coming. But, because there was no way he was calling Crystal, he opted for Alex and Robert. They'd play chess or grab a movie or do something. Anything.

That had left her and Elliot. He was currently working in their room. Patching holes and the like. His attempt at trying to make things better because he knew he was gonna die. She had started at the kitchen table, staring into nothing and letting her anger build.

She moved to the couch and attempted television but the racket from the hall made it useless. She'd balance the gym books. Yeah. Crunch some numbers that's what she'd do. That always took the edge off.

Of course, when the edge you're talking about is the edge of a knife your husband just put in your heart, it doesn't really work. In frustration she slammed the mouse to the computer on the desk and angrily shut the lap top monitor, a hard thud making the noise from their room grow silent.

"Olivia?"

_Come in here and I'll kill you. _

The noise continued, the soft brushing and leveling of plaster against the wall. The drinking had made her angry and furious, but she controlled it and she truly believed that it was just a simple lapse, that with a renewal of meetings and a lot more communication about it between the two of them, he'd be just fine.

But the letters, they'd left her furious and hurt and while she would like to go in and just talk to him and find out why in the world he has four letters that are addressed to her in his nightstand, tucked softly in his journal next to the bed they make love in, it's just a little too much right now.

It's a little too much when Sam is falling a part, Isaac is a nut job and the monsters are on her last nerve.

It's too much.

Yet… Sam has never been wrong.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia leaned against the threshold of their room as Elliot made, what appeared to be the finishing passes over the hole he made with the cane. His face was so guilty it was almost funny.

Almost.

She licked her lips and crammed her hands in her pockets, "Elliot?"

He stopped immediately, the putty knife in his hand at his side, his head hanged in shame, "Yeah? What do you need?"

She drew in her bottom lip, chewed it in thought and released it, "Can… we talk?"

Quickly, as if he's been waiting for her to open up for dialogue, as if he's been waiting for her to be ready for the stupid excuses he was gonna give her, he dropped the putty knife and the leveler into a bucket and dusted off his hands before wiping them on his tattered levis, "I want to. Yeah, yes. Please?" he nodded and motioned for her to sit on the bed.

She nodded to the living room, "I'll meet you on the couch."

He exhaled. Not good. Talks on the couch, met he was so dead that even if they did resolve it tonight, there would be no make up sex. Which is exactly what he loved to do after a fight because it met that she still trusted him enough to let him be that close to her. To not feel like she had to put up a wall while her wounds healed.

He hated couch talks.

He was so dead.

He exhaled and retrieved the journal and letters from the nightstand and walked to the living room as if his feet were caste in cement.

He saw her curled up into a ball on one side of the couch and he exhaled in relief. Sub-consciously he'd thought for sure she'd be gone. But, Olivia was truly showing him she would not leave.

She might kill him tonight, but she'd still be in the house. That had to be growth.

He timidly took his place on the opposite side and let the journal reside in the middle of them. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She looked at him and exhaled, "Alex talked to me when she came for Sam… she said she'd talked to you about Isaac while I was gone."

Elliot groaned inwardly, she was going to address anything other than what was really bothering her. "Oli-"

"She said they are going to assess him for an Emotional Disturbance… they have special schools for that, did you know that?"

"Oli-"

"Do you think he's ED, Elliot?" she asked softly and truly she was asking for his opinion.

He licked his lips, "I think… something isn't right. I'm not sure what it is though."

Olivia exhaled "They set up a meeting, it's next week. They'll let us know what they think, she said. But I know he's not Emotionally Disturbed Elliot. He can't be."

Elliot had the smarts to nod. There was no way in Hades he was gonna disagree when they were having a couch talk. Not if he ever wanted to have a bed talk with her again.

"Sam talk to you?" Olivia asked when the silence became uncomfortable, when the pink elephant in the room got brighter and fatter by the second.

"A little… not about whatever happened to Crystal, but … he said something interesting, he said that Satan has asked to-"

"Sift us as wheat," she finished softly and exhaled, "I guess, this is the beginning huh?"

Elliot swallowed and stared at the black leather bound journal that had four innocent envelops sticking out from the top. Okay, maybe they weren't innocent. Maybe they were infuriating.

"Olivia-"

"Why do you have four letters from Oliver in your journal?" she asked just as steady as she could manage, "Why do you have letters from the man who raped me, in your journal?" she demanded softly again only this time the crack in her voice betrayed her calm.

He winced, "That's no fair-"

Her eyes bulged, "Not fair?" she hissed and snatched the letters tossing them angrily into his chest, "That's not fair!"

"Olivia-"

"Explain it!"

"I'm trying!" he snapped in exasperation and instantly grew soft, "I'm trying, Liv."

She licked her lips as her tears fell and she remembered the time she'd punched him out in the hallway of her apartment building. She remembered the intense anger when she felt he betrayed her by telling Cragen about her case. She remembered that anger and she is scared because this anger is so much more than that one could ever have been. She shoved the journal over to him when he was quiet, "Say something, damnit!"

He took in a breath and exhaled, "Olivia… I'm so sorry. I never read them."

"Wow… kudos for you," she replied so coated in sarcasm Elliot wanted to punch something.

"Olivia… I just… I didn't think you'd want to see them."

"I don't!" she snapped.

"Then why are you so upset?" he whispered softly and reached out to touch her leg.

She straightened immediately and stood, "It's not your choice!" she yelled at him, "It isn't ever your choice what happens to Oliver! It's never anyone else's but mine!"

"Liv-"

"He took everything from me Elliot!" she screeched and ran her hand through her hair, "And you will not be another man that takes away my ability to choose!"

His head was spinning, "Olivia, I-"

"He took my power to choose! He took it from me and I couldn't stop him!" she yelled and slowly began to crumbled, "I'm not letting you take that power from me! I can't," she sobbed and moved past him, out of the living room and to the back of the house.

He scrubbed his hands over his face in pure defeat. He was so guilty, but couldn't she see that he was trying to protect her? Who would want letters from their rapist? He stood slowly, the pain in his body reminding him he'd forgotten to take him meds. He groaned and picked up the letters as he walked into the back of the house.

She wasn't in their room. She wasn't in the office or the bathroom. Which meant, the only other room on this side of the house was Solomon and Hannah's. He exhaled, leaned against the door frame for a moment and watched his wife stare up at the ceiling she'd painted by hand. The calm of the sky. He walked to her slowly and she immediately turned to her side, her back to him as she sniffled and wiped at her face. The smell of her daughter in the small pink comforter doing exactly that… comforting.

"Olivia-"

"I don't have anything to say to you right now," she whispered weakly. "I think… I think I'll sleep here tonight. The kids will be home in a few hours, Hannah likes it when I rest with her, she won't mind."

"Liv-"

"I'm really tired Elliot and I have an early meeting tomorrow. You have clients."

He bent over her, placed the letters in her line of vision and kissed her cheek tenderly, "I'm sorry, baby. I am."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her eyes burned from too much crying. Every time she closed them the tips of her lids were on fire and every time she opened them she saw four envelopes staring at her. Mocking her. She propped herself up on her elbow and picked up the first one, starring at it. The loop in the 'O' of her name, so much like her own writing that it was eerie.

She bit her lip, flipped them all over and stared at the postage date. She'd finally selected the one that was dated as having been sent to her first. She wished Elliot were with her to read these. Olivia took a deep breath and ran her finger under the seal of the envelope before slowly taking out the single sheet of lined paper.

She couldn't do this.

Not by herself.

Emotionally drained by everything that has piled up on her and her son's statement that is replaying in her mind, she carefully picks up the letters and stands on shaky and wobbly legs. The blood rushing in her head as she slowly walks out of her kids' room and into her and Elliot's, waiting at the door, not exactly sure why is there, again.

"I… need… you," she whispered carefully and raised the envelopes, "this… is too much for me."

Elliot, who was laying on his belly, turned and sat up, quickly standing but stopping, not bold enough to take another step to her, "How… how can I help you, Liv?… What do you need? Tell me. I'll do it."

She hanged her head and sobbed, "I don't know."

He moved to her, closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around her. For a moment she melted into him, but as if reminding herself of their situation she fought to get away from him, the envelopes crinkling in her grasp as she freed herself for a brief second and Elliot simply took her back and forced her to allow him to hold her, "I messed up. I hurt you and I betrayed you… I'm so sorry, baby."

She swallowed and let her sob erupt into his neck, her chest heaving, "Why did you keep these?"

He held her tighter, "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, sorry, Olivia."

"Please?" she whispered and held firmly to him, "please tell me, why? I don't understand it."

He licked his lips, let her go but still held his hands loosely behind her, before drawing one up to push her hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry… I thought, one day- you'd might want to read them… I'm not sure, I just… I knew you wouldn't want to deal with it now, but… " 

She nodded and sniffled, "But, one day?"

"Yeah," Elliot clenched his jaw. It was so hard to read her right now and not being able to read her scared the living crap right out of him. "I thought, maybe… when the kids were grown and you saw what amazing kids you raised… that maybe."

"I'd be able to accept their genes?" she whispered and shuddered, "I don't… I don't ever want a relationship with Oliver. I don't want to know anything about him."

Elliot nodded, "I know… but, Liv… he's had you under a microscope for years-"

"You think he's planning something? That's why he sent the letters?" she pulled back suddenly and the fear was clearly written across her face. "Is he?"

"I don't know," Elliot shook his head, "I don't think so… those letters have a pretty long span… something would have happened by now."

She blinked rapidly, lowered her head and walked passed him to the bed, sitting softly, the envelopes in a death grip, "I don't…. I don't know what to do."

He's not sure if she is defused or if she's just momentarily not burning. Nevertheless, he decided to sit softly next to her, his arm wrapping gently around her body, "I'm sorry, I kept these. I'm sorry I didn't show them to you. I think that you have three choices, though."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, "What?"

"You can either read them and figure out where to go from there, or you can put them back in the nightstand and forget about them until your ready to deal with it. Or we can burn them tonight and anything else that comes along."

She exhaled and sat up, "If I choose to throw them away… will you think I'm weak?" she asked quietly.

"No," he responded simply, "No, I wouldn't. I'd understand."

She nodded and laid down on the mattress the letters resting between her abdomen and palm, "And if I just put them back in your nightstand… what then?"

He shrugged and stretched out next to her, "Then they'll be there when you look for them."

She rolled to her side and faced him, "And if I read them-"

"I can understand that too-" he was cut off when her fingers touched his lips gently.

She shook her head "If I read them… will you read them with me?"

His brows rose slightly, he's not sure if he should feel honored about this, but he does. He feels like he's been offered a reprieve, because only fifteen minutes ago she was going to impale him with a rusty whatever-she-could-find and now she is not just wanting to share something so intimately close to her with him… she needs him to get through it.

Vivian needs a raise.

"I'll read them for you, to you, with you, whatever you need, Liv. I'm right here."

She exhaled and rolled to her opposite side, shifting and snuggling until she was flush against him. She felt his lips on the back of her hair and she reached behind her, drawing his arm around her waist, "I need you close."

He held her tighter, kissed the back of her neck, "I'm right here."

She sniffled, "I can't do this. What could he possibly have to tell me? Do you think he somehow found out about Hannah and Solomon?"

Elliot exhaled, kissed her again. She was gonna kill herself with all the 'what if's'. "Take your time, I'm right here.'

And take her time, she did. It was nearly twenty minutes before she finally, unfolded the thin paper and inhaled deeply, forgetting to let it go. Elliot read to himself over her shoulder. He'd kill him if he so much as had anything remotely negative to say to his Wife. He'd go to the prison and higher 'Bubu the booty snatcher' to kill Oliver slowly and as painfully as possible and in prison, that can encompass a whole variety of options.

She sniffled as she read and her hand instantly tangled with Elliot's.

_Dear Olivia: _

_There is nothing that I can tell you to make what I did acceptable. Nothing. I can only tell you, that prison offers a man many opportunities to change himself and I have. It is audacious to ask, I know, but I would very much like it, if you would come to the prison to see me. I have an extremely delicate matter and I need you._

_Hopefully,_

_Oliver._

She dropped the letter to the mattress. Dumbfounded is a laughable understatement. Perhaps the most laughable understatement of the year, "This," she shook her head, "This has got to be some type of joke… it has to be, right, Elliot. This isn't real. This isn't happening."

Before he could say anything to her she picked up the next letter and ripped it open with far less regard than she had the first letter. She unfolded it rapidly and he felt the angry heat start to pour from her body. She was gonna blow. He held her tighter and kissed her cheek again, resting his cheek against hers as they both read.

_Dear Olivia, _

_I'm not surprised that you have not answered my letter. In fact, I understand. I can only express to you the tremendous importance of meeting with you soon. If not to tell you in person how profoundly sorry I am, but also to beg shamelessly for another life._

_Sincerely,_

_Oliver_.

"Another life?" Olivia muttered to herself, "Is he trying to say 'another chance'?" she asked in complete disbelief, "Please tell me," she began to sniffle, "that he doesn't suddenly think I'd want a relationship with him. Not after everything he's put us through!" she snapped and ripped the letter in half.

"Olivia," Elliot whispered softly and covered her hands that were already starting to tear into the third letter.

She exhaled and let herself cry, "I'm not going to see him. I don't care what you think."

"Hey, no." Elliot whispered softly and stroked her abdomen as he pulled her even closer to him, "no, baby. No, I'm not pressuring you to do anything. I'll be there for you. I'll stand right next to you, no matter what you choose, and you'll be right, because it's your choice. No one else's, Liv."

She took her time opening the third one and winced.

_Dear Olivia,_

_Please. I'm begging you. I need to see you, it is extremely urgent. I don't have much time. I've enclosed my attorney's phone number for you to contact him. I'm begging to see you._

_Please,_

_Oliver._

"Attorney?" Elliot furrowed his brows and stared at the paper, "That's not good news."

"Sure it is," Olivia smiled, her lips dripping with hatred, "Maybe the bastard is coming up for parole… I'm sure we can go and give a statement to the board. Word it just right, and he'll never see the light of day."

"Liv, come on… I think you've had enough for the night. The kids are gonna be home soon-" he stopped and resigned himself to her decision the minute she started working on the last envelope, the one that had come only days prior. He continued to read over her shoulder and hold her.

_Dear Olivia,_

_I spoke with my attorney and he said that he has yet to hear from you, so I'm assuming one of two things. One: You've simply thrown the letters out and I don't blame you for that. Two: You've read them and thrown them out and I don't blame you for that either. Please know, that I'm still in need of your help and I'm still praying that you will grace me with a visit. _

_Oliver._

As if the envelopes and letters were suddenly contagious, Olivia shoved them off of the bed watching as the air currents took them slowly to the ground, "Bastard!" she yelled out into the room and covered her face with her hand, crying in her husbands arms. Oliver had managed to break her again.

Bastard.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Alex is gonna keep Sam over night and I talked with Casey, she said it's fine. They're all falling asleep anyway," Elliot exhaled and crawled back over the mattress and next to his wife that had been sobbing uncontrollably for well over an hour.

"Thank you," she whispered and sniffled. "I'm sorry."

His brows shot up, "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Olivia. I'm the one that messed up right here. This is completely my fault."

"No," she whispered and pulled back to see his face. "You know me so well, that you know I wouldn't be able to handle it and you're right. Look at me, I'm a mess."

"You've had a lot on your plate and I haven't been helping."

"Elliot," she shook her head, "you were right. I understand why you didn't want me to see them yet. I do. I just… he took everything from me. Everything."

"I told you," Elliot whispered and rested his hand on her hip, "I'd never take anything from you. Nothing."

She exhaled and cried harder into his neck, he held her and whispered to her and did everything he knew to do to give her a little peace. It took long laborious minutes but she managed to quiet herself and then… something totally unexpected.

He felt her hand masterfully unbutton his jeans, her lips against his neck before her hand slipped into his jeans and boxers and stroked him firmly. "Liv-"

"I need you," she whispered and kissed his neck again, more frantically, "I need you inside of me."

"Liv… we need to decide-"

"I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Liv-"

"Elliot," her hand stopped, she was looking boldly at him, "Please? I don't want to talk about him. I want you. That's all." 

"Liv… let's, let's do this right. Let me love you, right. Let me-"

"No," she shook her head and groaned in exasperation, "Elliot," she licked her lips and began to tug at his jeans and boxers, "Just… I need this."

He raised his hips, and was surprised when she didn't even bother to pull the pants all the way down. She brought them to his thighs; she straddled him in her own jeans and bent low to kiss him. Their tongues on the opposite ends of the spectrum. His searching for forgiveness and trying to heal while her tongue sought for control. For the very thing that was taken from her all those years ago.

She moaned, rubbing into him and he winced feeling the fabric of her jeans grind against the sensitive skin of his hardening erection. "Liv, jeans."

She unbuttoned her jeans without hesitation or poise or seduction and brought one leg out before straddling him again, "Please Elliot… make this go away."

"Liv," he cupped her face, "we should talk it through."

She reached between them both and stroked him firmly, he groaned and his hips thrust up gently, "Please, El."

He exhaled, took in another rapid breath and held her hips close to him, "Olivia… we've got to work through this, we've got to figure-"

She growled in frustration and rolled off of him. She shook her other leg out of her pants and stood to her feet.

"Liv… where are you going."

She exhaled, hung her head before raising it and letting if fall behind her so she stared up at the ceiling. "Shower."

"Liv."

"Forget it."

"Olivia!" he called to her firmly and sat up, reaching toward her and practically yanking her back into the bed.

"What the hell!" she snapped and struggled against him, his fist tightly wrapped around her wrists.

"Stop fighting me!" he hissed, "I'm not the bad guy, here, Liv!"

"Lemme go!" she fought him harder and used all of her weight to push him back. If she couldn't get her arms free she'd catch him off balance.

He tumbled back, the very crown of his head lightly thudding against the headboard. He still held her firmly, "Stop! That hurt, Olivia."

"That hurt?" she stared at him wide-eyed and struggled to wrench her hands away again. She applied just the right amount of pressure at just the right angle and got her hand free, slapping his arm in anger and hurt and frustration and exhaustion. "My whole life hurts!" she snapped and moved to hit him again.

Elliot caught her wrist, wrapped his leg around her small waist and rolled her pinning her to the mattress and keeping her hands firmly at her side. "How can you tell me that?" he asked with a voice so pained she instantly closed her eyes to avoid looking at the hurt on his face. He bent low, kissed her eye lids softly, "How can you tell me that your whole life hurts when I've been apart of it for almost a decade? How can you do that to me?"

She squeezed her fingers over his as he held her hands firmly into the mattress and sobbed against his stubbled cheek, "I'm sorry."

He nuzzled his nose against hers, kissed her mouth softly and straddled her thigh, his knee between her legs, his body as close to her as possible, "Haven't I been good to, you? Haven't I given you a home, children… my love? Haven't I given you everything you've ever asked or wanted? How can you tell me that?"

She broke then, in the pale light of their room, in the safety of her husbands arms. She broke and sobbed and even when he released her hands she kept them there, too tired and ashamed to do anything with them her tears streamed her face, fell into her hair as she sniffled, "I'm sorry… it's… I don't know what's wrong with me. My emotions are everywhere and nowhere all at once and everything is piling up on me Elliot," she finally moved her hands and covered her face, wiping away tears, "I don't know what to do."

He exhaled, lowered her hands from her face and took her right palm, bringing it to his face and kissing the moisture from her hand, "Have I hurt you? Did I scare you?"

She ran her thumb over his lips as he held her hand, "Elliot… yeah, you scared me," she admitted softly and began to cry again, "Sam was frantic when he called, and then… I walked in and you were passed out and the room was thrashed and-"

He kissed her hand against, lowered his lips to her ear, "I'm sorry," he whispered and lightly ran his fingers along her arm. "I'm sorry. No more testing Olivia. No more drinking, no more missing things with our kids or feeling sorry for myself or-"

"Elliot," she shook her head and raised his face to look at her; "I'm not discounting what you've been through. I'm not. I understand how angry you are, I do. I get it. I'm not upset that you're angry, I just… if it was just your anger, I could take it. But, it's Sam and then Isaac and the gym and, I feel like an emotional wreck and I'm exhausted and I'm loosing my patience with the kids and… I feel so out of control that…" her lips fell into a downward curve and she broke again.

"What?" he whispered and pushed her hair behind her ear, "tell me. Please?"

She sniffled and looked up at him, his blue eyes telling her that he was begging for her to trust him. That he wanted to be just as close to her even in the midst of this, than he ever has before. "I feel like I'm out of control and I just… I need you to ground me. I need you to give me that security and that safe landing that you always have. I need it because… I'm falling and I don't know what to do."

He licked his lips slowly, pressed his moist lips against hers and sipped softly from her bottom lip, "I'm sorry. I.. it looks like we've both been pretty miserable the past few months and we haven't noticed one another."

She cupped his face, "We've noticed… we just haven't had the strength to do anything to fix it…I'm sorry."

He furrowed his brows, kissed her collar bone while he slid his hand down her abdomen, "I'm sorry, too, Olivia. I am."

His thumb rubbed gently over her navel before he raised his hand higher under her shirt and kissed her mouth, "I love you… you know that don't you? You know that in spite of me being a jerk, that I love you?"

She sniffled, nodded and licked her lips, "In spite of me being selfish… do you realize that I love you? That I'd never make it without you and that's why I need all of you… that's why I need you sober."

"I promise you, Olivia," he whispered and flicked his tongue over her lips as his hand flicked the front clasp of her bra open, "I'll never take another drink again. I'll never hide anything from you again… it's not worth it. I hate it when we're like this," he told her and moved the fabric of her bra feeling the warmth of her breast, the stab of her nipple against his palm. He moaned and moved his knee closer to the juncture of her thighs.

She moaned and couldn't help the sob that spilled out. That was all it took. Elliot immediately sat on his heels, pulling without care or finesse at her panties until they were off her hips and down to her knees. She attempted to widen her legs to accept his body, found that the underwear hindered her. She groaned, bit back a curse and kicked them off, anxiously opening her legs to him.

She's not sure when it happened but he's not wearing pants and while his erection still needs a little encouragement, she knows he wants her. Elliot crawled over her, purposely dragging his length over her leg before kneeling between her legs, his forearms resting near her face, "I'll try to make you forget tonight ever happened. I will, but… tomorrow it'll be there. Promise me you'll deal with it."

She reached down between them grabbed him firmly and stroked him, "If you promise to help me. If you promise to love me in spite of everything I'm doing wrong… I'll do it. But… if I don't have you, it'll kill me, Elliot."

He closed his eyes, the sensation of her hand making it more difficult to not just plummet into her, but before he could answer her, before he could tell her that he loves her, that she's not doing anything wrong, that she's incredible, his hips did just that.

He plummeted into her body with one thrust. Buried himself to the hilt and she groaned out, her neck arching back, her hands digging into his chest. He placed his forearm between the head board and the crown of her head and waited for her to look at him. Her breathing was rampant, uncontrolled and labored, her thighs were squeezed tight against his hips as she moaned and forced her body to accept him.

He was about to apologize for going so deep so soon, but she'd opened her eyes and looked up at him and it was right there, clearly written on her face and backed by her eyes.

It was okay. It was what she wanted.

He pulled back out, drove deep into her again, pressing her body into the mattress as she bit her bottom lip and groaned again. He sucked along the line of her collar bone and was surprised when she raised his head to look at her, "No. No… just… go."

He furrowed his brows, "I don't want to be rough with you, Liv."

She took in a breath; her controlled has been taken from her by so many people, by so many circumstances. She wants it back. She wants to tell him exactly what to do and have him do it. She wants him to fall so deep inside of her that he leaves his soul within her. She bent her leg, pressed firmly down and rolled him forcefully to his back.

"Woaw-"

"This is how it's going to be, Elliot," she told him matter of fact and pulled her shirt off. "One of us is going to be in control tonight. One of us will do exactly what the other wants them to do, and right now," she told him as she pulled her bra off of her frame, "I'm in control, because I need to be."

His brows raised and every time she moved while he was still inside of her he had to fight not to come. "Oli-"

"There is no talking," told him firmly and rotated her hips as the bra and her hands rested on his abdomen, "there is no talking or anything else unless I say."

He moaned. There were two sides to this coin. He's not sure if he should be concerned about her needed to take control like this. Sure there's been a playful game of dominance in their sex life, but she has never demanded, never taken.

It's turning him on.

He reached up, touched her breast and was surprised when she pushed his hand away, "Stop touching me. I didn't ask you to touch me."

He cocked his brow. She wasn't being hateful or mean, she was taking what she needed from him and he can't even begin to explain how hot that one simple act is. Even though he knows why. He'll never what it feels like to be raped, to have your control and your power to choose taken away from you, but he does know how it feels to have your life flash before your eyes and know you can't stop what's happening. More importantly, he understands his wife's need to be in complete control even when she's spiraling out of it. He understands that in her heart there is no malice in their bed, and so, he relinquishes full control to her, and plays her game.

In defiance, he reached up to her breast again and she slapped it away, her brows raised as she stopped the movement of her hips, "Touch me again, and you won't be able to for the rest of the night."

He smirked, thrust his hips up so fast inside of her she sucked in air and fell forward on her hands, "What?" he snickered and ran his hand over her breast for the third time. She took his wrist in one hand, pinned it high above him before grabbing the other and holding them firm with one hand. She reached between them, grabbed the bra and quickly made work of it, tying it around his wrists so the he was secured to the slat of the head board.

And then she hesitated.

And he thrust into her one more time to make her forget what she was thinking to let herself have this one moment of being completely out of her element. To let her have one moment of feeling like she was in control when they both knew she was miles away from it. She kissed his forehead and he could almost feel the war inside of her, this fight to unlock something within her or be the docile lover she often prefers to be.

"Is this okay?" she whispered into his ear as she felt him slip out of her body. Her position all wrong, but she was suddenly too timid to change anything.

He grinned, "You have no idea how okay, this is."

She pulled back and looked down at him, "I thought… you didn't want to do the whole tying –"

He exhaled, moved his hands to hold her and then realized his predicament, "Little different, Olivia… you know that, don't you? You know why I have my hesitation?"

She licked her lips nodded softly and straightened her torso on her knees, "So… you're mine right now?"

He tried to move his hands, fact of the matter was, if he really wanted to get out of it, he'd just break the lacy bra, but this was far too exhilarating for him to even attempt such a ridiculous act. "Looks like I don't really have a choice in the matter."

She smiled, reached down between them and quickly lowered her body onto his. He groaned, his legs moving, trying desperately to touch her with his hands but come to think of it, she really did tie a good knot.

He thrust up into her and she held his hips firmly to the mattress, "No. I didn't tell you to do that."

He arched his brows and then slammed his eyes shut as she began to move in the smallest circles, her palms flat against his belly, applying pressure and warmth. "Liv-"

"No talking."

He took in a raspy breath as she suddenly switched directions and sunk further down onto him, hissing and wincing at the penetration. His breathing increased instantly and he tried to move his arms again, wanted to hold her hips and control her and let them come together and then he remembered what this was all about in the first place.

Her need for control.

She produced and up and down motion in her spirals and he pulled down on the bra, the fabric pulling tight as he fought the urge to come. He watched her, watched her breast move with her body, watched her head tilt to one side as she concentrated and moved faster. Her moans and whimpers becoming louder.

She rotated back and then thrust forward. Hard. She came, yelling out her release as her body clamped down on him. He tried to thrust, wanted so badly to come, but she stopped him, "Don't. I didn't say you could."

He exhaled his eyes wide, "Liv… I don't' think I can help this."

"Don't." she told him again and moved over him, "Provoking his body. He groaned, tossed his back on the pillow, his naked chest gasping and heaving, "Liv."

She leaned down covered his chest with hers and he could feel the sheen of sweat she was covered in. That made it so much harder not to come. "Don't," she told him again and reached between them. He thrust up again and she instantly pinned his hip, "I said, no."

He's going to die.

He took deep breaths, his own body perspiring, he looked back at his hands, and then at her, he was in heaven and hell all at once. This must be purgatory. She moved her hand from his hip to the joining of their bodies and stroked herself, her forehead pressing into his chest as she brought herself closer again and then stopped.

She kissed her way back up to his mouth, kissed him there and then rested her cheek against his, drawing her moist hand to his lips and outlining them, "Suck my finger," she told him and he did, because he wanted nothing more than to come and having her taste in his mouth would do just that.

She kept her hips painfully still, but he felt her muscles mocking his length and taunting him. He sucked harder and she moaned into his neck, biting the skin there before kissing the lobe of his ear and whispered, "Move."

He was more than anxious to do so. He pulled down on the bra, couldn't care less about the pain in his wrist and bent his leg to gain leverage. He thrust and his body tensed, "I'm gonna come."

"No your not," she told him. "I didn't say to come. I said to move."

This was hard. In so many ways than just the obvious. He groaned and moved and thought of things that wouldn't let him come why she stayed still and she whispered the most sexually antagonistic things he's heard sine the last time she attempted it. He groaned and heaved and sobbed with a need for release, his hands trying desperately to get to her as he thrust, "Liv!"

"Now," she said softly, "Come now."

He thrust up one more time and came violently inside of her, his gasping for air and groaning her name sending her into her own climax as she held tight to him. She moved, and he came again, instantly, "Oli….via." He ground out and panted, "Kill…ing…me." She clenched her muscles and he came one last time as she reached up and untangled the bra setting him free.

He instantly wrapped his arms around her, flipped her to her back and covered her, kissing her frantically, his tongue deep in the heat of her mouth, his hand on her breast, pinching and rolling her swollen nipple before tearing his lips away and hungrily attacking her body with his mouth until he was back at her center, holding her hips down as he slid his tongue over her.

She hissed, her hips bucked against his face, her hands instantly grabbing for his hair and pressing him closer to her. She came, her body contracting until she sat half way up, her thighs closing over his face before he separated them again and crawled over her, kissing her softly as she panted and let her body finally go limp. He collapsed over her and she kissed his forehead, "Thank you."

She felt him grin against her, "You're welcome."

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"What if this is the wrong decision?" Olivia asked as Elliot pulled the SUV into an empty stall. "What if this is some sort of game? A sick joke?"

Elliot looked across the car to her and reached for her hand, his wrist still sporting a bright red welt from a certain bra. "We don't have to do this."

She closed her eyes, swallowed and squeezed his hand, "May as well, while we got a free babysitter." she joked lamely then shook her head,"I can't do this. I'm not strong enough to do this, Elliot."

He rubbed his thumb over her hand and leaned over, kissing her cheek softly, "Well get this done. We'll go straight to Vivian."

She licked her lips, and nodded but made no effort to get out of the car. He slipped out of the car and walked around opening her door and offering his hand. He helped her out of the car and instantly wrapped his arm around her waist. "When this is over today, Elliot… when this is behind us…I want to adopt a baby," she said softly and stopped to gauge his reaction.

He smiled down at her, kissed her mouth gently, "Well leave Vivian's and go to the lawyers. It'll be all meetings with people we don't like talking too… all day long," he smiled softly and kissed her again, "I love you, and you are strong enough to do this."

She kissed him back, separated only because of the looks they were getting from passer by's and she instantly took his hand again and they made the long walk, a comfortable silence settling between them until they entered the stone building and the man behind the glass spoke into a microphone, "Visiting hours start in thirty minutes… who are you here to see?"

Elliot squeezed her hand and she cleared her throat, begging God to help her muster all of the strength she had as she leaned into the slits of the glass and the only thing that could come out of her mouth was, "Oliver."


	8. Sifted

Silver Lining

Chapter 8: Sifted

She couldn't do it. She couldn't. She was weak and she was ashamed to have to accept it. The guard had signed her and Elliot in. They'd went through the process of putting their belongings in a tray, taking their shoes off before walking through the snitch box and because Olivia has been a civilian for far too long, she found herself having to cut out and remove the under wire to her bra before they could actually be completely processed.

The wand moving across her body.

The stupid stamp on her left hand.

She wished she wore better socks.

And then, the guard had allowed them to walk through the first gate, she'd peered up at the guard tower and for a split second convinced herself that she should run for the sole purpose of being put out of her misery. Elliot must have sensed her predicament because he had pulled her as close as possible to his body and given her a gentle squeeze.

Flowers.

The prisoners had planted flowers. She'd almost turned around then, when she saw them, but the only thing that had saved her was Elliot's possessive hand on her waist. The smell of his cologne, the sure and steady sound of his dress shoes scuffing the cement.

She'd stopped him, there in the middle of the visitor's path to block 'C' and deliberately picked a fight. She'd been vicious to him, cold when hissed, "You're letting me see the man that raped me! I thought you were going to protect me!"

He'd been gracious. Took her stinging words and pushed them away as she closed her eyes, his hand softly caressing her cheek, his lips pressing lightly against her forehead before finding her ear, "I'll walk you out of here right here and now, baby. We'll never look back; we'll never tell a soul that we came. No one will ever know. Not even him."

The thought had been tempting, but she'd gathered her strength, apologized, asked for forgiveness and let him lead her closer to, 'Block C'. He'd opened the door for her and placed his hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her into the threshold where another guard waited at a small metal desk.

They'd asked for her name and she'd given it.

They'd asked for her license and she'd given it.

They'd asked what relation she was to the inmate and she froze.

Elliot had been kind enough to fill out the visitor form for her, in hopes she wouldn't be asked that question. But she had and the effects had left her in shambles before he could get her back out of the door they'd walked through only seconds before.

He had walked her out of that prison with her face hidden in his chest, his arms around her body and now, hours later, even after the children have been put in their beds and the alarm clock is telling them both they should have been asleep for the last three hours; her face is hidden in his chest just as deep and he is holding her just as tight.

"It doesn't mean you're weak, baby. It doesn't. I promise you," Elliot whispered, his fingers stroking the silk of her hair. "It doesn't mean anything, Liv."

She sniffled and wiped quickly at a tear before it could hit the cotton of his shirt, "Was Vivian okay with us canceling?"

He lowered his hands from her hair to her cheek, but when she pressed her face in the crook of his body to keep her self hidden, to keep her self safe, he simply stroked her arm softly, "She said she understands, but that tomorrow we are to- and I quote- get out beautiful asses in her office… she cleared the morning for us."

She nodded softly, the stray strands of her hair tickling his nose until he simply lowered his lips to the crown of her head, "You're not weak."

She pulled back and looked at him, "Then why do I feel like I am? Why do I feel so out of control that I don't know what to do? I can't fix one of my sons and I have no idea what is happening to the other," she rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling, "it's just a matter of time, isn't it?"

He furrowed his brows and rested his hand on her belly, "Before what?"

"Before…nothing," she exhaled and sat up, "Elliot-"

"Matter of time before what?" he asked, tucking one leg under his body and letting the other hang off the bed so he faced her, "Tell me," he said, and gently caressed her face, "Tell me and I'll make it better."

Olivia licked her lips and turned away, staring at the closet door, "Sam researched us at the library… did you know that?"

Elliot groaned, "The library get's him into so much misery… what he find?"

She exhaled, swung her legs off of the mattress and let her feet hit the cool of the hard wood floor before she dropped her shoulders and bowed her head, "Some stuff on white… I'm willing to bet more and he just doesn't say anything."

Slowly, he moved until he was behind her, his legs outlining her body, his hands covering her waist, "What else?"

She drew her lips in, tried desperately to hold onto her sobs, her voice was raw and pained, "Before… Hannah, grows up and realizes she looks and acts exactly like me and-"

"And what?" he whispered and kissed her ear softly, "are you scared she'll know she's got an amazing mom?"

She scoffed and pried his hands away, freeing her to stand to her feet, "Whatever."

"Liv," he whispered and followed her down the hall, "stop," he commanded and was shocked that she obeyed.

She bowed her head again and he wondered why, for a woman who would not allow one of their children to bow their heads, she could never keep hers raised. He held her from behind, pressed his cheek against hers, "She loves you."

"She'll know I'm weak. She'll know… she has my instinct, Elliot. She'll know."

"She does have your instinct, yes," he smiled against her, "and she's got your compassion and your fearlessness and your boldness and your plain stubbornness… if she does find out anything about how you were born, she'll understand and she'll love you."

"But," Olivia sniffled and shook her head as they stood in the hallway, "what if she doesn't? What if Hannah grows up and one day she finds out, how I got here, what if she finds out I lost Isaac or that I almost let our family be murdered in-"

"Seems you've done a lot," he said monotone. "Too bad you didn't do any of those things, Liv. Where is all of this coming from? Where are all of these doubts coming from all of sudden?"

She tried to take a step forward and he held her close, maybe one or two steps from Hannah and Solomon's room, "Please lemme go."

"No, sorry," he whispered and tightened his arms around her, "Tell me."

She shook her head, "Elliot… she'll find out and then… I won't be who I am today."

He raised his brows, "Olivia… she doesn't know, and that means that she sees you as you truly are… she's three, why is this getting you so off kilter? For all we know she'll never know."

"The boys," she sniffled and rested back on his shoulder, "they're such mama's boys and they love me and I love them and they are so completely in love with you Elliot, but Hannah… she's me and I'm trying so hard to correct everything in her that is me and it's… I… I don't know. I don't want her to hate me. I don't want her to be me."

"She's won't and she's not you… yeah she's a whole heck of a lot like you, Liv, but really, Hannah is Hannah."

She turned in his embrace and sobbed, wrapping her arm around his neck and hiding once again, "I don't want her to know that he mother is so screwed up and weak."

"My mama?" Hannah's small voice broke through and Olivia instantly turned to face her daughter.

"Hey pumpkin," she sniffled and tried desperately to compose herself.

"Daddy hurted you?" Hannah asked and let her large brown eyes drift from her father's to her mothers.

"No," Olivia smiled softly, "No… daddy is making it all better. Go to sleep baby girl."

Hannah furrowed her brows and took a few more steps to her mother, her small arms reaching out, "Up, pwease."

Olivia grinned and squatted to pick up her daughter, "You're getting so big."

Hannah smiled, "I love eww mommy."

"Yeah?" Olivia whispered and swiped the hair from Hannah's face before she rested her forehead against her daughter's much smaller one, "I love you, too, baby."

"I good girl?" Hanna asked and framed her mom's face.

"The best good girl, I've ever seen," Olivia grinned and walked her back into the room, "Sleepies?"

Hannah yawned, "Yeah, I tired."

"Why'd ya get up?" Olivia asked and tucked her tightly into her bed.

"Heard ya talkin'… you're super sad. Long time, sad and I no likes it much."

"You worry too much, Hannah," Olivia whispered and kissed her forehead tenderly, "Go to sleep baby girl."

"Mama?"

"Yeah?" 

"Luv eww, like der no morrow."

Olivia grinned, kissed her again, "I love you like there's no tomorrow, too… go to sleep, honey," she told her softly and walked back to the door only to stop as soon as Hannah spoke up again.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, pumpkin?"

"You my best friend."

Olivia smiled sadly, "Yeah."

Hannah arched a brow and giggled, "Mama, I not askin'. I tellin'."

Olivia grinned and blew her a kiss, "Thank you, baby."

Hannah giggled and snuggled tight against Mr. Uno, "Nightie Mommy."

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"Found ya," Elliot said softly as he stepped out onto the deck of their home. His wife perched on the corner of the railing. Seemingly unconcerned with the possibility of falling over onto the lawn. Breaking something.

"Wasn't hiding," she whispered and exhaled sadly.

He approached her slowly as if she were a wounded animal set to bolt at any given second instead of his wife that had hit a speed bump and completely bottomed out. "Maybe… maybe I was thinking more on the lines of… lost."

Her head raised slowly, her brows raised for a fight, but before she could find a spot to dig in, to coil and snap, he'd raised a cup of chocolate between them, the scent of cherry comforting her. "Extra shot?"

"Three of them… figured," he took in a deep breath and cracked a smile, "well, I figured you'd need three shots instead of the standard two."

The corner of her mouth raised into a smile, "Thank you… want some?" she asked softly and took a sip, letting the warm liquid swirl in her mouth before swallowing and not waiting for a response before hooking her hand around his neck and pulling him close. Her lips against his, her tongue seeking him out slowly. Seeking the healing he'd offered her before. Seeking him and in that moment, only him. Not the answer to what Oliver was looking for. Not the hope that Hannah would never find out what a mess Olivia came from. Not the understanding of what was happening with Samuel, not even the innocence that exuded from Solomon or the answer to all of Isaac's problems.

No, in this moment she only wanted her husband. She only wanted him to make her a better woman. A woman that she felt she could never be, because somewhere, somehow, the aspects of Oliver or White or Ganzer would come out and her children will never see her as their hero again. But, maybe as Elliot strokes her tongue with his gathering all the tastes she has to offer, the salt of her tears, the cherry on her tongue the happiness in life and the bitter pill she has swallowed. Maybe he'll always know that she's wanted to be a hero to their children. Wanted to be unstoppable, unbreakable to them. Maybe, he'll still know and when they hate her he'll remind them. Maybe he'll remind her children and by doing so he'll be her hero.

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"Amazing," Vivian smiled from her desk, looking at the two haggard people walking into her office, "you both look like shit today."

"That's amazing?" Elliot raised his brows as he and Olivia both slid into their seats.

"Well," she shrugged her shoulders, "at least it lets me know it's not necessarily a problem between the two of you… what's up?"

Elliot exhaled and slid deeper into his seat, Olivia hadn't said a word all morning, but she was fuming and he knew that it didn't necessarily have anything to do with him, but he also knew he was going to get the brunt of it.

One day, he's gonna kill Oliver.

"You look exceptionally pissed off, Olivia… do you want to start today?"

It took a few seconds, her nostrils had flared and for a moment, Elliot saw Benson flash through her eyes. Saw that no holds bar look, that total intent to kill flash before instantly being replaced with his wife. "No."

Oh boy.

Elliot re-adjusted him self in the seat and put himself on the chopping block, "I uh… I've given plenty of reason for her to be angry," he started his own confession hoping and praying that by confessing his sins Olivia would ease into the conversation.

Ease. Gently.

_Please ease. Please ease. _

"Oh?" Vivian leaned back in her chair and smirked, "Whatchya got?"

"A forty," Olivia took a jab and Elliot saw her wince, saw her visibly cringe.

_So much for easy_.

"Olivia, let him talk-"

"Why? He's so much better when he drinks. You should get him plastered," she suddenly stood and circled to the back of her chair, "he's a crack up!"

_Yeah, definitely not easy. _

"Liv," Elliot shook his head, "come on. Sit down, we'll-"

"We'll what, Elliot?" she seethed and he had to force himself to realize that the anger was not directed at him. "We'll sit down and talk about going behind my back? Or maybe we'll talk about how you still haven't figured out what is happening with Isaac! Or hey," she ran her hand through her hair and chuckled angrily, "maybe we can talk about how you rejected me last night on the deck, or how," her voice began to break, her chin quivered, "or how, how you went back to the bottle when I was right there! Damnit, Elliot!"

"Stop!" he commanded and stood to his feet, "You are not going to do this me, Olivia. I've messed up. I admit it, but this anger that you have is not my fault so get it in check and let it go in the right direction!"

Vivian licked her lips and smirked. Still two of the most interesting people she's come across. Elliot has finally learned to stand up, to not take her crap and while it is rare, he's doing that right now and she doesn't see the need to step in just yet.

"Right direction?" Olivia's eyes stretched into saucers, "Right direction?" she repeated again, "You are the _only_ direction right now, Elliot!"

"Then find a new one!" he told her firmly. "I'm guilty of a whole lot. But, I am not the reason you are so angry right now! I don't know what is happening with Isaac," he told her firmly and then softened, "But I'm trying to figure it out baby. I am. I'm trying, just like you are and I may have lost some ground with Sam, but… I'll get it back. I know I will. And… I know I messed up with the booze, Liv… I'm sorry, I am. That's all I can tell you, and if you want to keep cutting me up… do it. If that's what makes you feel better… do it," he whispered and sat sloppily in his seat. Exhausted.

She closed her eyes and exhaled, letting her head rest on the wall, her hands between her back side and wall. She clenched her jaw and she knew she was the one wrong in this. She was so amazingly wrong. She was wrong and harsh and cruel to him, cruel enough and vicious enough to make him fight back.

"So," Vivian pursed her lips and arched her brows, "that was interesting."

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, rolling it and stretching it, "I love her, but… sometimes, she's brutal." He exhaled and knew, absolutely knew she was smirking behind him. And that was why he loved her, because he knew her forwards and back, inside and out. He knew when she was wrong and sometimes entertained her just the same. He knew when she was right and sometimes fought her just to do it. But above all else, he knew that no matter how angry she got, no matter what she spat in his direction, she'd always work it out with him, she'd always war it out with him and they would always win, together.

She'd slinked back into her seat, a sheepish and embarrassed smile about her face, "I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm wrong."

How do you spell understatement?

"Well," Vivian leaned forward on her desk, "we have an apology… Elliot? Do we have a response?"

Elliot smirked and held out his hand to hers, felt her slender finger weave into his hand and he groaned at the absence of her wedding ring.

"What?" Olivia whispered, "What is it?"

"Where's your ring?" He said softly and momentarily forgot that they were in Vivian's' office.

"Elliot," she exhaled, "I… I told you, it slips off. I was washing my hair and I didn't want it to slip off, why can't you accept that?"

He withdrew his hand from hers and locked his fingers over his lap, his focus solely on the carpet in front of him.

"So," Vivian pulled out a legal pad and tossed it on the desk, "looks like I did a good thing- clearing the morning for you two… who wants to put their ass in the sling first?"

Elliot leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hand scrubbing his face and beard, "I," he exhaled and bit his lip, "I started this crap, between us. I just… I… I wanted another test."

"For sterility?" Vivian clarified.

He nodded and released a gruff, "Yeah… didn't turn out to well."

Vivian crossed her legs under the desk and nodded, "So… how many tests have you had?"

"Seven," Elliot exhaled, "I've uh… had the injections and the hormones and all that, but… nothing."

"Olivia?" Vivian nodded to her, "How does that make you feel?"

Olivia furrowed her brows and licked her lips as she readjusted in her seat, "I don't understand his need to see me pregnant… we can adopt, we've done it before and we love Samuel, I don't understand why we can't again."

Vivian turned expectantly at Elliot as she wrote notes sporadically, "And you?"

"I just… it's amazing to see her pregnant and… know that I did it. It's amazing to be able to care for her and not have to put up with her stubbornness. She let's down her guard when she's pregnant and sometimes," he exhaled and looked up to the ceiling, "sometimes, she can be so unbelievably stubborn."

She was smirking and he knew it.

"I don't mean to be, Elliot," she whispered softly and touched his thigh tenderly, "it's just… you… you take such good care of me and I'm… I'm not used to it."

"After all these years?" he countered gently, "After all of these years, you're not used to the fact that I'd war anyone or anything to get to you?"

She looked down, and rested slowly against the rear of her chair, "Maybe that's just it… maybe… maybe I'd finally accepted it and then-"

"And then what?" he whispered softly and squeezed her hand gently.

"And then… you warred and, I almost lost you."

"What?" he furrowed his brows and that damn cane caught his eye as it rested between his legs. "Liv… White?"

She nodded softly and looked away from both of them, "You… you fought and you warred and… I almost lost you and maybe… maybe that's still too scary for me. Maybe I don't want to get used to being treated that well ever again, maybe I don't want to be doted on and loved on, because… maybe next time we wont be so lucky."

Where in the hell did all of that come from?

"You look perplexed, Elliot," Vivian prodded. "Do you have anything to say?"

He was pissed. That's what he had to say.

He stood, slowly, locked his arm as he held his crutch and walked to the window, "Do I have anything to say?" he whispered softly and separated the mini blinds to peer outside, "Do I have anything to say?" he repeated again, his voice more angry than the first time. He turned and glared at Olivia. "Do I have anything to say? Yeah, Olivia. I do! I've got a lot to say!"

She stood angrily and there was no Olivia Stabler, no this was Benson and Stabler and oddly enough it was almost comforting, it was almost a better form of communication. "Then say it! For once, stop trying to fix me, stop making me your damn project and just say what ever you have to say!" she yelled, her fist balled at her sides.

He snarled at her and walked closer as he seethed, "I fought to stay alive while he was beating the hell out of me and I fought to stay alive so I could at least have the possibility of seeing my kids again, but even with all of that I knew I wasn't gonna make it through that, so you know what Olivia? I warred, yeah, I did," he ground out. "I warred and I fought like hell in that hospital for one thing and only one thing-"

"What!" she hollered, her palms up, fingers stressed as tight as the chords of her neck. "What!"

"You!" he snapped, his eyes instantly dimming, "I warred through all of that to get back to you Olivia. All of that, to get back to you. To take care of you and to dote on you… had I known that it wasn't what you wanted… maybe I wouldn't have-"

"It's what I wanted," she whispered, "it's what I wanted, I just… I'm scared if I depend on it anymore… what happens if I loose you? What happens if you pick the bottle over me, Elliot? Then what? Tell me? Yes, I'm being selfish right now, because maybe I don't know anything else, but… what happens when you choose it over me? When I'm left to crumble? What happens then?"

He exhaled, "I… I'm not picking the booze over you, Olivia. I just… I'm not sure what I did there, I just… I love you. I do."

"Then," she shook her head and exhaled, licked her lips, "why can't you war against the alcohol the same way? Why can't you fight it to get to me? Why won't you come to me, when it's that bad?"

He clenched his jaw and sat down, "I'm… maybe… maybe I'm ashamed to need you that bad."

"Even if I need you that bad?" she whispered and looked at him, "how'd we get here again, Elliot?"

"Woe, time out," Vivian interjected and smiled, "Do you feel you've taken a step backwards?"

Elliot and Olivia looked at her and offered a simultaneous, "Duh."

"Well," she grinned, "you are both marvelously wrong."

"How's that?" Olivia arched her brow, "We're fighting like cats and dogs, again."

"Blah!" Vivian chuckled, "No. No you need to look deeper… what happened when he got drunk?"

"He destroyed our room."

"No… look deeper than that. Look at yourself. What happened?"

Olivia shook her head not sure what the woman wanted her to find, "I don't know… I… I really wanted to kill him… slowly, in fact."

"Yet he's very much alive… and I presume you are still living under the same roof? Sleeping in the same bed? Having great sex?" Vivian smirked. "You're red faces tell me so many things that you never will," she laughed and nodded back to Elliot, "And when she puts up this front, when she try's to throw you off her scent, tries to push you away… what do you do?"

He shook his head, "I get… so frustrated, with her."

"Look deeper, that's the surface emotion, look deeper than that, what do you do?"

He took in a breath through his nose and looked away from both women, "I fall in love with her all over again, and then… and then I fight back and try and hit her with the truth as much as possible, but I'm not sure it always gets through."

"But you're fighting back? Not letting her get away with it?"

"I'm trying," he exhaled and smirked, "the woman doesn't always make it easy, she's stubborn as a mule."

Both women smiled although Olivia's wasn't nearly as big as Vivian's, "You know… you used to be so damn protective of her that you wouldn't fight back. You'd try and love her as much as you could and you'd try to sooth her, but… tell me, Elliot, is it possible that you've learned to stand your ground with her, that you've learned to fight back in a way that is equally as loving?"

He shrugged, "To be honest… I don't think-"

"Yes, he has," Olivia whispered softly, "and… I appreciate it."

Elliot and Vivian arched their brows in pleasant surprise and looked at her as she stood and crammed her hands into her pocket, "I'm an incredibly selfish person, and… it get's me by," she confessed and slowly made her way to the book shelf that she has alphabetized more than a million times. "But… it only gets me by, it doesn't nurture me or help me, it festers within me and it's a coping device and all I really want, is… him. I want to… be taken care of and adored and all of that crap women get all stupid about," she shook her head and exhaled taking out one book and shuffling it left three spaces before sliding it back in, "But… what happens when it's taken away, either by some jerk breaking into our home or by the bottle, what happens then?"

"Liv," he said softly from his seat, "I… I'm never going to the bottle again. Never. I-"

"Promise?" she raised her brows and took a breath, "yeah."

"You don't seem convinced," Vivian interjected softly.

"He broke that promise, once already."

Elliot lowered his gaze and nodded, "You're right, I did, but… that doesn't mean, I can't make good on it now. It doesn't mean I'll break it this time."

"Can you trust that, Olivia?" Vivian asked softly, "Can you trust what he's saying right now?"

Olivia still kept her back to both people and ran her fingers over the spines of the books, "Ironically… no matter how many times he breaks it, I'll always trust his words-"

He scoffed, "Except when it comes to you, because you live your life like you're a marionette and your genes and Oliver and the mess you came out of are the puppet master."

She turned around and stared at him in shock, "You sonovabitch."

_Round two. _

"And your language is really leaving something to be desired, Olivia." Oh, yeah. Digging his own hole is his specialty.

Her eyes widened and her fingers griped the latest copy of a sex-tip book that she would use as a projectile in about four point three seconds. "I can't believe you, you self-righ-"

"Okay, hold on." Vivian picked up the spray bottle, "one more name call and I'm taking you out at the knees… cut it out. Now." she told them sternly.

"I'm not taking back what I said," Elliot dug in his heels, "She needs to go see him. To get over this, to finally break whatever hold he has on her-"

"Hold?" Olivia narrowed her brows at him and tilted her head only, it wasn't out of anger. No, he could see her digest the word. He watched it dance on her lips as she mulled it over, "Hold?" her eyes flitted between both of them before Benson showed herself again and her nostrils flared, "Yeah, Elliot," she nodded, "Yeah, you're right. It is a hold."

He's not sure there's gonna be a round three because whatever she's getting ready to say could be a TKO. "Olivia, that's not how-"

She bit hard on her lip as she circled. She was jittery, her eyes searching for an escape like an animal confined to one of those ridiculously small cages, "You're right," she smirked and nodded, "it is a hold. No… it's a possession, a theft really. He's had my soul from the very minute he raped me and there is nothing that can ever replace it, so forgive me if I'm worried my kids will wake up one day and realize I'm a pathetic mother or my husband will roll over and realize he could have had so much more than weekly shrink visits. You're right Elliot. He's got a hold on me, but your wrong, too… your wrong because you think that I can storm in a demand my soul back-my dignity- it's been gone too long Elliot… it's been gone way too long and there's nothing any of us can do."

"Olivia," Vivian interjected softly, "please, have a seat, we'll get this one figured out, it's no different from the other set backs you've had as a couple."

"Sure it is," Olivia smirked at Elliot, "because this time… this time, just like the other times, it's me. It's my insecurities that bring him down," she smiled softly and raised her naked wedding finger, "I set him off and he's right… I am weak."

"I never said that!" he hissed.

Olivia smiled softly, "Yeah you did… and its okay. You're right. I'm a marionette and… Oliver has always been my master."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Olivia!" Elliot hollered from the elevator moving stiffly with his cane, his body aching more than normally "wait!"

Yeah, like she ever listens. She swung an immediate right and pushed open the door, her body invading the city, like a force to be reckoned with. She was angry and he was glad. He was glad she finally got her pissed off enough at Oliver and at him to finally, maybe prove him wrong and war this out. Conquer Oliver once and for all and never look back.

Geeze she had long legs. Fast ones too.

"Olivia! Stop!"

He watched her push past a couple, her shoulder slamming into the man her mouth offering a muffled and fake 'excuse me'. Before his hand finally clasped around her wrist and he pulled her around to look at him.

The fear on her face was remarkable.

"Olivia," he said softly.

"What!" she snapped and yanked her hand free before shoving it in her hair, and turning her body to watch the traffic, to watch anything but his perfect face, his body, his arms that he would welcome her to fall into, "What?" he exhaled and hung her head.

"Hey lady," a hot dog vendor piped in, "you made of glass or what? You're blockin' my sign, here!"

She looked at him, squinted her eyes and remained in her position, she has given up far too much and she'll be damned if she gives up a square of cement for some over weight, bald headed, no teeth, jerk serving hot dogs.

"Olivia," Elliot said softly and gently raised her chin to look at him. She pulled her face away and turned even more in the opposite direction, her hand signaling for a cab from the busy streets. "Liv, baby. Don't go!" he pleaded and kicked him self mentally for being as harsh as he was.

The cab pulled up in all of it's filthy glory and she instantly opened the rear door and slid easily into the back seat before he ducked his head down to peer into the cab, "You said you'd never leave me, again! Don't be a coward! You stay here and you fight this out with me, damnit!"

She looked at him, licked her lips slowly and tilted her head, "Who said I was leaving you? Get in if you're coming."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She hadn't said a word in the back of disgustingly dirty cab, she hadn't even noticed as the cabbie picked his nose and wiped it on the fabric of his jeans. But, apparently, what she did notice was Elliot's outstretched palm that rested just near her thigh, waiting for her hand.

And after lifetime of silence, okay, just as they got out of the city, she'd finally put her hand in his and let his fingers clasp over hers.

"Where are we going?" Elliot asked and brought her hand to his lips, "Huh, baby? Where are we going?"

She stared out the dirty window and smirked, "When Sam was twelve, he was completely obsessed with Isaac understanding that God was everything," she said softly, "I mean, here's little Isaac and he's all of four years old and Sam is lecturing him every day, non stop. Relentless-"

"Liv?"

"I remember," she said as she looked down and absently picked at her fingernail with her free hand, "Isaac had wanted to watch television… we were having a hard time getting him ready for church and Sam… he came storming into the bedroom with Isaac's dress shirt and demanded he got dressed," she chuckled softly and looked back out the window. "I wasn't getting anywhere with Isaac so I took a step back and Sam yanked his pajama shirt off and started this lecture on how, Isaac could not serve to masters… he would hate the one and love the other, but he couldn't serve two…. he'd cinched the knot on Isaac's tie and pointed his finger at him and said," she raised her finger and made her best Sam impersonation, "It just doesn't work that way, so pick who your gonna serve, God or Barney."

Elliot smiled softly and squeezed her hand warmly, "What Isaac say?"

Olivia smirked and for the first time in the cab she looked at her husband, "Barney, of course… I thought Isaac was dead. Sam had yanked him by the arm and had him in the car faster than any of ever had or probably ever will and I swear… the whole way to church Isaac got nailed, do you remember that?"

Elliot nodded slowly, "Yeah, I do, actually… Sam really let loose on him. We've never had a problem with him since then… well- getting him to church anyway."

"Yeah," Olivia whispered, "Two masters… you'll love one and you'll hate the other."

"Liv-" he was just about to ask her what was floating around in her mind when the cab came to an abrupt stop and the nose-picking cabbie requested and obscene amount of money, and as Elliot looked out the window, he knew exactly what she had planned.

TKO.

One man was dead today and he just didn't know if it would be him, or Oliver. "Liv? I thought… I thought-"

"You think I'm the marionette?" she said softly and opened the cab door, "You think I'm sort of Pinocchio? Even he walked without wires, Elliot. Even he was free."

"Liv… you don't have to do this. This is insane, Olivia. There is no need."

She turned to him and smiled sadly, "Can't serve two masters, Elliot. You'll love the one and hate the other… there is no grey area. And maybe… maybe this is what Sam meant you know? Maybe this is our sifting. Maybe this is my sifting."

Elliot exhaled and watched her slid out of the cab and he thought it almost funny that her head was held high, shoulders back. Yeah, walking into a fight, she was all balls and no modesty, that was her. He shook his head, paid the cabbie and walked quickly to catch up to her. To once and for all clip the damn chords that connected her to her master.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. and Mrs. Stabler?" a correctional officer appeared from literally nowhere and Olivia startled in the plastic blue chair.

"Yes?" Olivia furrowed her brows and looked up at him, "Yes, that's us."

The officer looked down at his clip board and rubbed his brow, "This guy has been waiting months to see you. I think your just in time… we had to move him from his cell last night."

She furrowed her brows. "Move him? Into solitary?"

The officer's eyes grew wide, "Oh, no ma'am. That would be inhumane."

"Inhumane." Olivia repeated, "He's a serial rapist and killer… and you are worried about being humane?" she nodded and exhaled, "Nice."

The officer looked back down at the sheet they'd filled out to get in, "You wrote down cell block C."

She arched her brow and replied in frustration, "Look, that's what he wrote on the letter, that's what we wrote on the paper is there a point to any of this? Do you have him or not?"

_Easy Benson._

"I take it… your not on civil terms with the inmate?"

Olivia looked at the linoleum and ground her teeth before standing and staring down the correctional officer, "Look," she said slowly, "do you have my brother here or not?"

"Brother?" The officers eyes bulged, "He's you-"

"Yeah," her nostrils flared. She was ready to pounce and she was going to rip this young kid apart if he didn't get her what she wanted, "do you have him or not?" she ground out.

"Yes, ma'am. I do," he nodded and motioned for her and Elliot to follow him.

"Why do we need an escort to day when we didn't need one yesterday?" Elliot asked as the officer took them through a completely different route.

"Like I said… we moved him." 

"Death Row?" Olivia smirked as they stopped in front of two large metal doors.

The young guard pointed to a small blue sign with white lettering, "Pretty much. I mean, in prison, once you're here… its over."

Olivia's brows arched and suddenly she knew and understood the frantic begging in his letters, "The infirmary?" she whispered to herself.

"He's sick?" Elliot asked for clarification as Olivia held transfixed by the sign.

"With hospice support… just a matter of time. Weeks, but I'm thinking more like days so it's nice to see family-"

"Were not family," Olivia's head snapped to the guard, "We're not," she re-affirmed.

The guard looked questionly between Elliot and Olivia, "I though you said-"

"Just," Elliot interjected softly, "she'd like to see the prisoner and she's been cleared, can she?"

"Absolutely, he's been telling us all you'd come but really… we thought he was full of it. The only person who ever came was his wife… she died and he just… shut off."

Olivia cocked her head, "Gee, that's a real sad story… if I cared, I'm sure it would kill me."

The guard stood completely confused and shook his head as he pushed the button to the side of the door, "I've got a visitor for The Deacon."

"The Deacon?" Elliot asked in confusion.

The guard smiled and pushed open the door, "The bastard found religion. Good thing, 'cause he's on his way to test it out, if you know what I mean."

Olivia's stomach churned and she wanted to turn around but she'd heard the heavy doors close behind her and all that was left was the ridiculous sounds of machines supporting the lives of those that should not be supported. Including him. "I swear, Elliot," she said clenching her jaw, "if this is one of those twisted confessionals because he's dying, I'm gonna kill him right now. I don't care if he's found God or Allah or Mozart I will find some way to kill him."

He stopped her in the middle of the sterile environment, five beds on the left of them, five on the right, each with an ailing patient, non of which either of them looked at just yet, "Olivia, let's go. Let's go talk to Vivian some more, let's-"

She smiled sadly and caressed his face "I'm not a puppet, Elliot and I may not get my dignity back and I may never find my soul or my pride, but I will get my sanity back and my mind will be cleared of him once and for all… I'm not his puppet and I'll prove it to you."

"Olivia," he pulled her back to him before she could walk away and search the hallowed faces of the sick, "Olivia… come on. You know you don't have to prove anything to me."

She slowly freed her wrist, "Yeah I do," she nodded, "I do… maybe not to you directly, maybe I have to prove it to both of us… maybe I have to show myself that I'm strong because I'm scared to death for Hannah and I know you don't understand the correlation between her and him, because I don't get it half the time either but… maybe… maybe I've never been free, maybe I've lived my life looking on from the sidelines, maybe I've coached a few innings, but… he's always kept me from playing Elliot. He's kept me… from a lot of things that I'll never really know, but… I can't stand by and watch Hannah end up like me."

"Liv-"

"She holds her fork like me, Elliot… she's three and she's already trying to be just like me… I don't have a choice. If I want her to be strong, if I want her to understand that she can never be defeated, never be conquered, then… I've got to step up."

"Olivia… she's three," he told her softly, "you don't have to put yourself through this, she'll never know."

Olivia looked down briefly then back up at him and something had shifted, she'd gone from determination to fear in a split second as she caressed his face, raised up on her tip toes and kissed him softly, "Yes she would… she'll see it in the way I live my life. And you'll know-"

"Liv," he whispered softly against her mouth, "I don't think you're weak."

"Yes you do," she said and kissed his mouth again, "I saw it in your face when you looked at me at Vivian's… I have a strength about me, yes… but not in this one area, and I saw it today, on your face and I've never seen it before… and I can't bare to ever see it again, so yes… I have to do this."

"Oli-"

"Suit up," she smiled softly and kissed him again, "and tackle this one with me or wait here and I'll give you a play by play when were done."

He exhaled and nodded his head, "Okay… let's do it."

"Okay," she nodded and turned leaving her hand palm up behind her until he rested his hand within hers and they started at the first bed. African American. No. Second bed: red headed. No. Fourth, no. Fifth, not even close, Sixth, blah. Seventh.

It was the eighth bed that she stopped at. She stopped and she stared for what seemed like minutes before letting a gasp escape her lips. She took a visible step backwards and stared.

"Liv?"

She shook her head as her husband wrapped an arm around her waist, "He… he doesn't look anything like… him."

Elliot grabbed for his chart and flipped it open reading over it quickly and flipping to a second page, "Cancer… looks like, liver… and lymph nodes."

She stared down at the skeleton that lay on crisp white sheets, stared at the arms that once held her down, at the arms that once wielded a knife against her flesh and it terrified her that there wasn't an ounce of compassion within her. Not for him.

Never for him.

Even though he was asleep, even though the oxygen mask covered his sunken cheeks and chapped lips, she could still remember how his head felt against her neck when he came inside of her and then had the audacity to rest against her flesh. Even though he looks like he may weigh all of eighty pounds she can remember what it felt like to be covered by two-hundred-and-ten pounds.

She can remember what it felt like when he thrust.

"This was a mistake," she said softly and shook her head, "Elliot, this was a mistake, I need to go home."

"No," Elliot whispered and caught her by the waist as she moved to walk away, "No, you face this bastard, right now, Olivia. You face him and you walk out of here with your head up and you go home to our little girl and you love her like she's the only thing that has ever been your's."

"I can't."

"Yes you can… get your balls out of your pocket and you stand up to this freak. Do it."

"No," she shook her head and moved again.

He pulled her back, held her hips from behind so she faced the bed. Faced the truth. "Do it. You can't serve to masters."

"Elliot-"

Both were cut off by a low raspy voice, "You… have… a little girl?"

Olivia and Elliot stared at Oliver like they'd both just found a cursed mummy's tomb and didn't know what to do with it. Open it or leave it. Talk to this pile of filth or leave. "She's none of your concern," Olivia told him firmly and stood a little taller. "I'm here. What the hell do you want?"

He blinked rapidly and moaned as he moved the oxygen mask down to speak, "I… want… your help."

Olivia arched her brow, "I wouldn't give you a piece of my liver if you were the last piece of crap on earth."

He smiled softly and his brown eyes slowly moved to Elliot, "She's… a… handful."

Elliot snarled, "What do you want?"

Oliver, moved his head slowly to the small stand to the left of the bed and wetted his painfully chapped lips with his tongue, "Redemption… a fresh start."

Olivia's brows shot up, "A fresh start?" she seethed and leaned into the bed "in case you haven't noticed, you're dying, and I'm not The Pope so I'm sorry, but confession is closed today."

He smirked softly and exhaled "I… I don't… want a fight."

"You don't-" she cut herself off, and walked around the bed for the soul purpose of meeting his gaze, "you don't want a fight?" she hissed at him. He moved to turn his head and she forcefully grabbed his face and made him look at her, "You look at me you sonofabitch; you didn't want a fight then either, did you? You wanted it to go your way, and you didn't' expect me to ever find you and fight you in court did you? Well I did, and I could care less if you don't want a fight right now, because let me tell you something you prick… fight, is the only thing I've got left in me!" she snapped and forcefully tossed his head back the opposite direction sending him into a coughing fit.

"You're… wrong," he coughed and replaced the mask, gaining more air. Gaining a few more moments at life. "You… you have… that mercy. That compassion. It's there."

Elliot watched on closely, this was entirely too weird. He expected a taunt, a sick joke, an accusation a twisted plan. He did not expect kind words to seep out of his man's mouth. Not even a little. Not even in sarcasm.

"I… was a vile… person," he rasped for breath and sought out his sisters eyes that looked so much like his did. Broken. "I was… I did… things to you… that… are unforgivable I trespassed and I took and I stole-"

"Shut up," Olivia said softly.

"I'm sorry, Olivia… I… I'm so sorry."

"I said shut up," she shook her head again, "You…you gave up your right to be sorry, the moment you had me beg… you gave up that right the moment you raped me… your going to deal with it now, your gong to rot in hell and your going to know what it feels like to beg for mercy and not find it."

"God forgives."

Olivia seethed. "I told you, the confessional is closed. You want forgiveness go talk to a pastor. I'm not open for business."

He swallowed and motioned slowly for the pitcher of water. Olivia crossed her arms and ground her teeth, "There's no water in hell Oliver… may as well start practicing."

He licked his lips and looked pleadingly at Elliot who immediately looked away. The man was dying and every instinct within him raged against him to help him. To give the man water. But his heart fought back and reminded him of what Olivia must have felt like trapped under this man's weight. His breath over her neck. His body inside of hers. He had half the mind to stand on his oxygen hose. The bottom line was, if Oliver was getting water, it was up to Olivia. Husband or not, this was not Elliot's place.

"You're wasting my time," Olivia snapped and crammed her hands into her pockets. "Last chance, what do you want?"

He moaned in pain, "Forgiveness."

"Tough," she said, "I've got-"

"One more… thing," he struggled for air.

She stared at him in complete hate and it took everything to keep from beating him to death. She could justify it by saying she was saving the state of New York money. Hospice had to be expensive. "You've got five seconds to tell me what you want… what you think your gonna get because I can assure you… unless your asking me to kill you, your not getting a damn thing from me."

He turned his weak attention back to the small stand near his bead, "Top… drawer," he labored and coughed, "please… just… think about it."

Olivia narrowed her brows and pulled out a manila file, "Think about what?" she muttered and flipped it open. She held up a small prison photo of him and a young woman, an obvious prison mural as the setting, and… to Olivia's profound shock, an obvious belly. "So… what?" she scoffed, "You think that by showing me that you had a somewhat crap life, I'll feel sorry for you and offer you forgiveness? Sorry… I'm not that easy…. not when it comes to you, _brother_."

He closed his eyes, obvious frustration written in his sunken features, the black circles not hiding his irritation with her, but he did understand nonetheless. "She's dead,"

"Heart breaking," Olivia snapped and quickly turned the picture over. Fact of the matter was, the young woman was beautiful, had a killer smile and seemed genuinely in love with him. How in the hell she got associated with him, she doesn't want to know. Why she let him impregnate her she really doesn't want to know. But there was one thing she did want to know, "Did she know about you? Did she know you raped women? That that was how you got off? Did you tell her? Or did you corrupt her? Did you seep into her soul and stay there until she died?"

A tear had slid down his face and in only served to enrage her all the more, "Oh… did I hit a nerve?" she smiled manically and quite frankly Elliot stood by, scared. Had she been this way when she confronted White? Had she been this ruthless? This uncaring? This… this complete antonym of who he knew her to be? "You've got to remember something, Oliver," she stared at him and Elliot swore he saw her lips curve into a smile, "You and I have got the same blood running through our veins, and I may not be a rapist or a killer, but you can bet your pathetic body, that I can be just as sick and twisted and evil as you-"

"No," Oliver whispered softly and locked his eyes with hers, "no, you couldn't. You forget that I've watched you…. I've seen you," he coughed and struggled for air, still longing for the water, "I've held you under a microscope and… the one thing I… know," he rasped for air, his eyes closing slowly before opening, "is that you're nothing like me… and your nothing like dad."

It must have taken Olivia by surprise, his confession; because her mouth fell open and she took a step back, "Shut. Your. Mouth."

He swallowed, "You might… have his blood… but you're not him, and you'll never be close to what I was. Never… which," he coughed laboriously again and stared at the water as if willing it to come to him, "please?"

"I told you please," she stared at him, "and you laughed… I begged for mercy and I found none. Beg all you want Oliver, you're not getting anymore than you've already taken."

He looked frantically to Elliot and then at the ceiling and then back at Olivia who stood impenetrable and unmoving, "Olivia… the file… keep looking."

She bit her lip and angrily opened up the file again, like a teenage taking the SAT's for the tenth time. She exhaled and looked down, "Legalese… just what I wanted."

"I'm… counting on your compassion… your mercy."

Olivia flipped through the file again and stopped at the third page before having the wind knocked out of her. She stepped back into the wall and dropped the file, starring at him in pure shock and mortification.

"Liv?" Elliot furrowed his brows and moved to try and get to her before she snapped.

"Olivia," Oliver groaned in pain and tried to focus on her, "her mother… is… gonna give him up… he's just a boy."

Olivia's chest heaved and she instantly pounced at him, "SCREW YOU!" she yelled and cussed and threatened to kill just Elliot had secured his arms around her and pulled her back, "SCREW YOU PRICK!" she yelled.

"There a problem, here?" a corrections officer appeared as Elliot struggled to get a seething Olivia under control.

"I'll kill you!" She hissed as Elliot dragged her backward, "You can go to hell!"

"Get her out of here!" The guard shouted as another guard instantly came in and jerked her out of Elliot's embrace.

"Hey! Cool it!" Elliot barked and stepped between them both, "I got it, man!" he said, "we're going, we're out of here, okay? Its fine," he tried to sooth them all, his palms raised out in a not threatening gesture.

One officer picked up the file, "Get her the hell out of here" he said, slamming the file into Elliot's chest and producing a thud.

"Typically," Elliot stepped forward, "I'd nail you right about now."

The guard smiled and stepped closer so his chest meant Elliot's, "And typically I'd put your crippled body in cuffs, old man… get out of my infirmary and take that crazy broad with you."

Elliot grinned took a glance at the man's badge number and licked his lips, "Hope you like unemployment," he winked and adjusted the file in his arms as he ushered Olivia out into the hall.

Who was he kidding, he didn't usher her anywhere so much as the two armed guards ushered them both off of the premises… where she could finally breathe.

"Olivia," Elliot said softly and reached out to touch her, she jumped and turned to face him.

"I can't do it."

"Do what?" he asked softly and caressed her face, "Do what?"

"I can't. I won't. I won't have him in my house, around my boys and not around Hannah. No screw him he can go to hell!" she seethed and sat on the brick of a ridiculous flower bed placed in front of the prison to make it look like a happy place. Like a school for adults. Some place where you visited.

Elliot shook his head, "Liv, I don't under-"

"READ IT!" she yelled and thrust both of her hands at the file, "Read it! Read what that audacious ass-hole, wants! He… he… he-"

Elliot gasped and took a step back, forcing himself to sit on the same structure, "He wants us to raise his son."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mommer?" Solomon whispered as he peeked around the corner at his mother wrapped protectively in his father's arms on their couch, "Mommer?"

"Solo," Elliot whispered, "it's late, son. Go back to sleepies."

"Mommer?" he whispered again and took two steps closer, clearly defying his father, "Mommer, you sad?"

She didn't have the strength to lie anymore, "Yeah, honey. Mommer is sad." she sniffled and sobbed.

He bowed his head, his hands behind his back, "I sowry."

"Oh," she held out her hand to him, "honey, don't be. Mommer is just… tired."

Solomon pursed his lips, moving them side to side like he sees his father do when he's thinking, "Mommer… I gotted somethin' to make yous bedder."

"Better?" she smiled softly and looked at him. Looked at his giant clear blue eyes and his perfect lips, "I'd sure like to feel better."

Elliot hugged her tightly, kissed the back of her neck as their son approached them and pulled his hand from behind his back. His snake thrust closer to his mother. She gasped and smiled and struggled not to cry, "Scared me, Son," she sniffled, "doesn't he need to sleep? It's very late."

Solomon licked his lips and held his snake close to his mother's face as he kneeled next to the couch and Olivia was pinned between a snake and her beautiful boy just behind it and her husband just behind her. "Mommer… I tellded you the name of my snake, and it make you bedder. Pwromise."

Olivia smiled softly unconcerned that her son saw her tears because the reality was she had nothing else to give, "I've been dying to know what it is," she whispered and ran her knuckles along his cheek.

To her surprise he took his free hand and ran it along her cheek, over her tears in a perfectly mimicked motion of his mother, "Horace…. you bedder now?"

She smiled as more tears fell and she caught his hand in hers and kissed his palm unconcerned that Horace the snake was far too close for her standard comfort, "I am…. so much better. Thank you, son."

He grinned, "I told'ya, Mommer. Horace, make you bedder, huh?"

She swallowed smiled, "So much… want me and daddy to help you put him back in his cage?"

He grinned, "No… daddy showded me. Night mommer," he giggled and leaned in to kiss his mother hard and long on the cheek, "night daddy."

Elliot smiled at his son, "Night, my boy."

And as soon as she knew the coast was clear she broke again for what seemed to be the millionth time since they'd gotten home. Which was after they were called to pick up Isaac who apparently is suspended, again. And after Crystal's parents called them to inquire about the relationship between Sam and Crystal that has suddenly went south without explanation.

"What ever you want to do, Liv. I'm right here. Whatever choice."

She sat up and glared at him, "Whatever I want to do? You think I have a choice here?" she snarled and stood instantly as she hissed, "You think that I'm actually wasting my time to choose here?" she asked completely dumfounded.

"Oliv-" 

"There is no choice, Elliot," she snapped and walked away throwing open the sliding door and stepping out onto the deck hoping the cool air would calm her, but her anger, her pure hatred and her demons fought and frenzied within her until she found herself griping the rail of the banister and vomiting onto the lawn with painful, long contractions.

Elliot scrubbed his hands over his face as he watched her break into a million pieces, watched her body convulse and fight itself and loose with each heave. He walked to her, ran small circles around her back as her body released frustration and anger and pure hate until tears streamed her face and she had nothing else to give the lawn.

She wept bitterly and as uncontrollably as the day she'd found out Elliot was in the hospital and may not come home. She wept and didn't know what to do. Didn't know where she should go or how to get there. Didn't understand up or down, didn't understand who she was… not even a sliver of her identity could she hold onto and claim as hers. "He's making sure he gets the last word," she panted, out of breath, her forehead on her forearm as she leaned over the banister, "He's making sure he haunts me forever."

Slowly, Elliot rubbed her shoulders and gently pulled her up before twisting her and pulling her against him, "I love you."

"He's trying to destroy me even now, Elliot."

Elliot licked his lips, furrowed his brow in thought and rubbed her back in soothing motions, "Or… maybe… he's trying to sift us."


	9. Kidnapped

Silver Lining

Chapter 9: Kidnapped

She hadn't budged. She hadn't talked. They hadn't made love.

She'd let him hold her when they fell asleep together, let him stroke her back and arms, sometimes her hip, but never-never, did she answer one of his questions about anything relating to their visit to the prison, let alone what Oliver had asked of them.

Raise his son.

Could the world be anymore brutal to them? Anymore savage and unrelenting to Olivia? Anymore unfair to Elliot? Damaged wife. Damaged body. Damaged ego and marriage. any typical man is likely to throw in the towel but just as Olivia is no typical woman, Elliot is no typical man. No. From everything that has happened to him he has always managed to do one thing.

He has learned.

He's learned from all of the things they've gone through. He is sure that what he has learned from all of the up's and downs of their marriage is that even if his wife has a few cracks, she holds an abundance of water. Even if his body is scarred, it responds to his wife. Only to her. He has learned that in the midst of everything there is one infallible truth.

They are made, programmed and created only for one another.

His ego and marriage?

We'll that's easy.

What he's learned is that his ego is nothing without Olivia, it cannot be boosted or flourish or nurtured, if she is not next to him and as far as his marriage goes, yes it has been damaged.

Alcohol abuse.

Accusation of affair.

A separation.

But then there's also been amazing children. Passion beyond comprehension and an unyielding love. And so he knows that in spite of the silence she is locked into, in spite of the fact that she won't leave the bedroom unless it's to help send the kids off to school, in which case she crawls right back into it and sleeps until he comes home; in spite of all of that, he knows that they'll walk through this and they'll be stronger and more in love than ever. He knows this like he knows the sky is blue and that is what allows him to keep talking to her, to keep holding her, keep touching her and keep whispering to her about anything and everything until she falls asleep next to him in silence.

And so, today, he will do the same thing he has done every day since the day they saw Oliver, he will pull up the SUV into their drive way and gather their children into the house. Sam will remain quiet and will refuse to say what has happened between him and Crystal. Elliot will tell him that he's ready to listen when Sam is ready to talk. He will pull out the monumental stack of paper that Alex sends home so he can painstakingly attempt to help Isaac learn something after dinner and he will lay his sleeping three year olds in their beds, the car ride home having knocked them out. His body will ache and he will secretly appreciate his wife so much more for what she does.

The kids.

The business.

The house.

The emotional pain she endures.

He won't bother her, he's learned from the past few days that the turmoil she is in requires that he give her space and unconditional love and so, only after all of the children are put to bed for the night will he make a new dinner for her knowing she may or may not eat it. She may or may not snuggle into his arms and stare off into nothing feeling the sensation of him against her, allowing her to forget only for a moment that she holds a new life in her hands. A new life that… she's not sure she wants, not sure she could love.

Not sure she cares about.

And he knows that makes her all the more miserable because a mother's love is supposed to know no bounds. Even when it's not your child.

"Hey," Elliot smiled softly from the doorway a dinner try in hand, "I uh… well, I got you comfort food."

Olivia exhaled and sat up slowly in the bed, the crumbled Kleenexes falling from her chest into her lap, "I'm… I'm not really hungry, tonight."

He furrowed his brows, closed the gap between them and placed the tray on the nightstand, "Liv… baby, you didn't eat dinner last night, or breakfast this morning and your lunch is still in the refrigerator… you need to eat, baby."

"El," she said with an exhausted voice as she turned her head away from him, "I just…"

"What?" he whispered when her voice failed her. He reached out and caressed the side of her face, "What baby? Come on, please talk to me. Please?"

She sniffled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I just… wish, I hadn't seen the letters. I wish I'd burned them."

He exhaled through his nose, slid his body closer to hers and reached for the small bowl taking it in his hand, "You saw them. We saw them. Now… now we've got to go from there. We've got to take this by the horns and win it, Liv."

She shook her head, licked her lips, "I've laid here and… and I've thought and I've cried and I've… I've… I can only come up with… I wish I'd never seen the letters."

He licked his lips, and pulled the comforter back, "Sit up," he smiled gently. "Sit, up. We'll get some food in you then well get you in the shower."

She cocked a brow and looked slowly at him, "Do I stink?"

He smirked, "You haven't showered in what… like eight days? I'll let you do the math on that one."

She furrowed her brows, raised her arm and ducked her nose to the curve of her arm pit before sloppily letting her arm fall and scrunching her nose. "Gross."

"Sam," Elliot chuckled, "wanted to know if we could all sort of throw you in the shower 'cause you were extra stinky."

She chuckled barely noticeable but he fell in love with it and he'd take that small chuckle. He'd take it because it was the only one in the last eight days that he'd heard from her and he hated the quiet.

"Stinky huh?" she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry… I don't… I don't see how you can sleep in the same b-"

He silenced her with a soft kiss on her cheek, and equally tender kiss at the corner of her mouth and feather light touch of his lips against hers, "I made spaghettio's."

She smiled again and he'd take that one too, no matter how wounded it was, "The last time I had those-"

"You were pregnant with Isaac and you ralphed everywhere," he finished for her and kissed her again, his hand running through greasy hair before separating from her and kissing her mouth again, "I love you," he whispered and smiled "Now, eat these things will ya? It was hard to make them. The can opener is broken I had to go manual."

She closed her eyes and smiled softly and he didn't care if she hadn't showered in a year, she was the most magnificent person he'd ever seen in his life. "You used the hand can-opener for me?" she smirked as he placed the tray over her lap, "Must be true love."

"Love at first sight," he smiled again. This day was so much better than the days when she just stared at nothing. Stared at the wall. Stared at his chest. The ceiling. This was better than the days when she cried so much her body revolted against her and she spent her night in the bathroom.

"Here's a 7UP for you, in case your stomach get's a little crazy again. I'll be in the living-"

She cut him off, a soft hand placed on his forearm, "Elliot?"

"Yeah?" he tilted his head in curiosity and rested the warmth of his hand over her.

"Will you… eat with me, please? I mean, if the body odor isn't too offensive."

He grinned and quickly stretched beside her, "Not offensive at all. Nothing about you could ever be," he smiled and wrapped her into his arms, letting her adjust so that she was lying against his shoulder, "Eat up. It's getting cold."

She took the first slow bite and he closed his eyes, letting the relief wash over him. It was a relief to know he wouldn't be rushing her to the hospital again for mal nourishment like he had only a few years previously. This time she was working with him, if only every other day. And he was even more relieved when she'd finished the entire serving of soup and the crackers and gently pushed the bowl to the furthest side of the tray and leaned back into his body, "I'm sorry, I've been… less than social."

"Don't apologize," he told her softly and kissed the top of her head, "don't."

She took in a deep breath and as if the food had recharged her emotions, as if the food and the company of another person had suddenly flipped a switched within her she erupted in tears again, "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she sobbed.

He ran his hand through her hair again, kissed her temple, "What do you mean, you don't know what to do? We get up, we run the water and then you step into the shower and I'll wash you and-"

"Elliot," she sniffled and reached up to wipe at her cheek, "That's not what I-"

"Met?" he asked softly as he stroked her biceps, "yes it is. It is, because that's the first step we need to take and then well take another and after that one more and eventually you'll smile again."

She inhaled a ragged breath and shook her head and before she could shut down on him again. He sat her up, forcing her to stand, "Elliot, I don't-"

"Come on," he coaxed her and gently pushed her with his body as he held her with his arms, "let's grab a shower."

He could feel the reluctance and the rebelliousness come off of her in waves but he continued to push her, continued to keep his focus on the shower. Continued to keep his focus on her. She'd almost slipped away from him when he released his hands to test the temperature of the shower stream, but he'd taken her gently back to his body and gently removed her pajama shirt, unhooking her bra and allowing it land on the linoleum.

She remained silent, felt his hands about her waist. She turned to face him and he slowly lowered her pants as she wrapped her hands around his neck and exhaled in relief as if his touch would save her.

Again.

The water was warm and soothing against her skin, her hands raised in front of her, her palms up and accepting the water as it fell into her hands, her head bowing into the stream, her hair falling to the sides of her face in a sopping mess. She raised her head, let the water pelt her face until she reached for her shampoo and filled the cup of her palm with it.

She'd made a lazy and less than meaningful pass into her hair before she felt his hand cover hers, his naked body flush against her skin, "I told you," he said gently and lowered her hand, taking over the movements of soft gentle massages into her scalp, "I'll wash you."

She leaned back into him and gave herself to him, gave everything she had to him for the soul purpose of being able to take another breath without struggling, without wondering why in the world she was his pick in the first place. She felt his soapy hands leave her hair, his lips at the curve of her neck as she reached for her shower gel and lathered his hands with the vanilla scent.

"Elliot-'

"Shhh, just rest, Liv. Just rest. Let your mind stop working and let your body relax," he whispered and let his well lathered hands roam her flesh.

Touching.

Washing.

Caressing.

"I love you so much Olivia. I screw things up," he whispered and nipped lightly at her shoulder, "I do. I screw them up and then I learn from them and then I screw something else up, but… I learn, baby. I do. And what I've learned about you is that you're so amazing," he told her and gently caressed her hips determined to not make this about sex. He moved his hands further, the soap gliding over both of them as he rubbed the back of her thighs before caressing the sides and moving back up. "I've learned that no matter what comes your way… you'll take it head on and you'll win. That's what is so sexy about you Livie. It's so sexy."

Slowly, she reached down covering his hand with hers and brought it to her chest, a small moan escaping her mouth when his palm instantly drew her nipple to a peak. He closed his eyes, fought desperately to control his body but he has always known that he has no control when it comes to her. None.

"The last time you called me, Livie," she said softly and pressed his hand deeper into the flesh of her breast, "was… when I got hit by that car."

He moaned, the flesh in his hand far too enticing. He kissed her lips softly, and slowly lowered his hand from her body, "I just want to take care of you, Liv."

She nodded, her head bowed before looking up at him, "You do, Elliot. You do take care of me. Very well."

He smiled weakly and gently guided her body further into the stream to rinse her hair. When she was clean and she let him run soapy hands about her body for a second time he'd made it a point to touch her in places he knew would wake her up. Arouse her.

Make her want him.

"Elliot," she gasped softly when he'd made a tantalizing path along her inner thigh, but purposefully missed the spot she wanted him to caress the most.

"Yeah?" She gasped again; let her head fall forward as his palm stroked the top of flesh. Her hand flew like a bullet to his and instantly stopped him, "Liv?"

"Elliot," she smiled bashfully, "I… I haven't taken care of myself for eight days… let me-"

He nuzzled her cheek softly from behind, "Why do you think I washed you twice?" he teased.

She elbowed him playfully and laughed and just for a few seconds he felt the worry melt and roll off of her shoulders. He saw the smile brighten her face and her eyes grow wide with just a few seconds of joy.

But only a few.

He took her hands in his, turned their bodies so that the shower stream hit their sides and he slowly placed her hands on the wall, rubbing the webs of her thumbs and index fingers. "I love you, Liv. I know you know it, I know I've finally gotten through to you," he whispered and slowly dragged his hand over her forearm and along the sensitive skin of her bicep," I know you know, Olivia… but, please tell me."

She turned in his arms and looked at him, "I'm sorry, I don't always tell you that-"

"Shh, that's not what I want. I don't want apologies. I just want to know that you know. I just want to hear that you know."

She took in a breath and let out a sob, before laying her wet face into his neck and crying, "I know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Please don't go back to bed, Liv," Elliot asked softly as he sat next to her. "The kids-"

"Are asleep," she muttered and laid on her side, "I'm just… so tired."

"Olivia," Elliot exhaled and scrubbed his face with his hands, "if… if you stay in bed… I'll find a way to pull you out."

"You threatening me?" she grumbled and pounded her pillow, "I'm tired Elliot."

"Because you won't get out of bed," he told her gently, "Please Olivia. This isn't good for you and you missed the park with The Monsters, and Isaac is going nuts-"

"I can't be everything!" she snapped and sat up, "I can't be everything to everyone! I need my own space!" she screeched and covered her face, "I need a break, Elliot! I can't think straight and I'm exhausted and-"

He leaned over, cupped the base of her head and pulled her forward, "Shh, go to sleep," he whispered and kissed her forehead, "Go to sleep," he said again and gently lowered her to the bed, pulling the comforter over her body, "I've got to get kids' stuff ready for tomorrow, I love you," he said and simply walked out of the room. She rolled to her side and went to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Daddy?" Isaac yawned and leaned next to the couch, "Daddy?"

"Yeah, Rookie?" Elliot placed the phone back on the cradle and scooted to the edge of the couch offering his arms to his son, "You are supposed to be sleeping, young man."

Isaac wormed his way into this father's lap and grinned holding up his large flashcards his mother had made for him long before school came into play, "I need my letters."

Elliot raised his brows, "Your letters? You mean the same letters that you got suspended for again?"

"Yeah, I need my letters, Mom and me, we paint them in the sky, but mom- she don't paint so well no more."

Elliot exhaled and ran his hand through his son's hair, "Mom is just out of paint right now, son… she'll be back soon and she'll be better than ever."

"How she gonna be better, Daddy? I miss her."

"Well," Elliot adjusted him so that his back was flush against his chest, "how about we go over our letters and then you hit the sack, huh?"

"With mom?" Isaac asked, craning his head to look up at his father.

Elliot smiled sadly, kissed his head and took hold of his son's flashcards, "Not tonight, son," he said, "tonight, mom is… needing something."

"What? Isaac asked innocently, "What does my mom need? I will give it to her. What?"

Elliot smiled, kissed his son again, "I've raised you right, but… I think what your mother really needs if for you to get your letters done."

Isaac exhaled, "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"I try… I try super hard, but it's very small."

Elliot exhaled, tossed his head into the back of the couch, "What's small?"

"The stuff at school," Isaac shrugged, "it's small and then jerk-a-zoid-Jordan laughs at me… so I just don't do it no more, 'cause if he laughs one more time, I'm gonna make his nose bleed."

Elliot chuckled and wrapped his arms tighter around his son, "That's not the way you settle things."

"But-"

"Not but's… let's do our letters and I think, I don't know, maybe that will get your mom in the mood to paint again, huh?"

Isaac wiggled around and got comfortable, going through his letters like there was no tomorrow, he offered the letter name, the sound and then surprised Elliot by offering a word that went with it.

"Wow," Elliot beamed, "Now… why don't you do that at school huh?"

"I told you, already," Isaac said sadly and slipped off of his father's lap, "but you don't hear me, too good. Can I go fix mom?"

Elliot glanced at the clock and playfully swatted Isaac's bottom, "Yeah, try and fix mommy. I know she really wants to see you."

Isaac grinned and took his stack of letters walking happily down the darkened hallway, "That's 'cause I'm good lookin'," he told his father and paused when he dropped a few cards. He squatted low and picked them up, "I'll fix her with my letters, dad. Watch me," he muttered and promptly went in search of his mother.

"Mommy?" Isaac called as he continued walking. When he heard no answer he continued to walk into the room, "Mommy, you sleepin?" he asked and observed her body. The rise and fall of her chest, her arm draped over her head, the other over her belly, "Mommy! Wake up," Isaac said as he started to make his way onto the bed, pulling on her sweats to help him up, "Wake up, Mommy, I'm gonna fix you."

Olivia stirred and let her eyes flutter open slowly, "Hey," she greeted him through grogginess, "you're supposed to be sleeping."

Isaac stretched out next to her and kissed her cheek, "You didn't kiss me good night… and you didn't paint with me or do my letters."

Olivia closed her eyes and groaned, "I'm sorry, son."

"No sorries, mom," he said softly and rubbed her belly, "I try super hard not to get into trouble, mom."

She furrowed her brows, "Honey, I know you do," she whispered and lowered her arm to rub his back, "I know you do."

"I know my stuff and dad, he goes through all the work the Aunt Alex brings me and he reads it and I do it," he told her softly, "I'm a smart boy, mom."

She smiled softly, "I know you are, but why won't you do your work at school?"

"It's small," he exhaled and quickly crawled over her, straddling her waist and holding out his flashcards, "I can do'em."

She wrapped her hands around his narrow hips and smiled weakly, "Let's hear'em."

He smiled in the pale light of the room and proudly recited his letters, "A, aaaaa, apple, B buh bear," Olivia grinned as he continued, helping him when he paused at the 't' and encouraging him forward.

"I did it!" Isaac grinned broadly at his mother.

Olivia sat up far enough to kiss his forehead, "You're amazing," she whispered against his skin. She lowered herself back to the mattress and traced her finger over his pudgy belly, "I'm sorry, I've been locked up in this room."

His bottom lip jetted out, his sad eyes searching his mother's face, "'Cause I'm always in trouble?"

"Oh, no," she whispered and caressed his face, "No, son. I know you're having a hard time at school, but that's not why I forgot to paint with you."

His eyes turned glassy as he let a small sniffle escape, "You forgot to kiss me good night and you had daddy make our sandwiches… not so good."

She sniffled and swallowed, "Honey… I'm so sorry."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a sneaky grin, "You let me tickle you?"

She cocked a brow, "Tickel? That's what you want?"

He grinned, "And a kiss?"

She laughed and rolled him quickly to his back, tucking him protectively under her before she tickled him and raised his pajama shirt, a perfect raspberry blown on his belly before rolling back onto her back and letting him tickle her with his small hands. She laughed as her son made every effort to expose her belly for his own raspberry, but when he discovered that he couldn't get past her hands, he flung himself over her torso and buried his head into her neck blowing with all his might before kissing her cheek and hovering over her face. He sloppily covered her cheek with his hand, "You fixed?"

She smiled softly and caressed his cheek, "Getting there," she whispered.

"Well that's good to hear," Alex's voice broke into their play time.

Olivia closed her eyes, it had taken everything in her to be happy for Isaac right now and as much as she loved Alex, she didn't want visitors.

"Aunt Alex!" Isaac grinned and slipped off of the bed colliding into her leg, "Hi! You love me?"

She laughed and kneeled, "You know I do… want to do me a favor?"

"Yeah," he nodded emphatically, "What?"

"You want to go hunt down your dad for me? I think he's ready to put you in bed."

"Ahh!" Isaac groaned and moved back to his mother, "Come on."

"Honey," Olivia whispered and soothed his shoulders, "Baby, take your flashcards and go find daddy."

"But-"

"Go, honey," she said softly and kissed him again, "I'll see you in the morning."

He pursed his lips and leaned closer to her ear, "Promise?"

Olivia caressed his cheek in one hand and kissed the other, "I promise. Hurry, baby."

He trotted off, his cards haphazardly in his arms before stopping and leaning against Alex again, "Love you," he said and took off out of the room.

"Alex," Olivia started, "I'm really exhausted."

"Because you've been camped out in this damn bed for the past eight day, let's go. Get up."

Olivia arched her brow, "So not in the mood for this," she grumbled and rolled to her side, "I'm sorry you wasted your time and gas to come here."

"Hey, Casey!" Alex called over her shoulder, "looks like plan B."

Olivia quickly rolled to her back, "Casey?"

"That's me," Casey smiled from the door way, "Isaac is getting huge, you know that?"

"Uggh," Olivia covered her face and groaned, "Go home. Both of you."

"Elliot is laying Isaac back down," Casey told her as she made her way to one side of the bed and Alex to the other.

"Well," Olivia muttered into the pillow, "I knew I married him for some reason."

"Oh, your sarcasm is almost enjoyable," Alex told her and flung back the comforter, "Get up."

"Hello!" Olivia yelled and sat up to grab the comforter and pull it back over her, "what if I was naked? Ever think about that?"

"Well," Casey smirked and pulled the comforter back, "had you been naked, I guess we would have seen a great rack. Get out of this bed Olivia."

Olivia flared her nostrils. Stared right at Casey and reached for the comforter again, "Bite me," she said and hid back under the comforter.

"These?" Alex asked holding up a pair of jeans.

Casey looked at them quickly and pulled the blanket back again, "Yeah. They look clean… ooh, get that shirt, right there-"

"What shirt?" Olivia peeked out from the comforter, "What are you two doing here?"

Alex tossed the shirt to Casey who shrugged, "Elliot called for reinforcements."

Olivia groaned, "You can't be serious."

"Sure am," Alex told her, "Get up."

Irritated, Olivia snapped, "What part of, 'bite me' don't you get?"

"Apparently," Casey motioned to Alex, "All of it… get the legs."

"What!" Olivia shrieked, "You can't just-"

"Shut up!" Casey snapped and kneeled on the bed, "you won't get up to get dressed? Fine, We'll dress you ourselves!"

"Casey!"

"Alex!" Casey moved and quickly positioned herself behind Olivia, "Legs! You remember that don't ya Olivia?" Casey chuckled, "Remember when ya threw me in the shower?"

"Casey!" Olivia shouted and struggled the moment Alex grabbed her legs.

"Sit on'em!" Casey instructed as she struggled with Olivia's arms.

"Ow!" Olivia hollered as Alex straddled her ankles and held her thighs down.

Alex shrugged and smirked, "Should have gotten out of bed!".

Olivia reached back to fight with her remaining limbs and to her shock, Casey simply pulled her camisole over her raised arms, "Oops," Casey chuckled, "Should have worn a bra, Olivia."

"Damnit, you guys!" Olivia hunched and tried to shield herself.

"Shut it!" Alex chirped, "Like we care. We all know you have a better rack, you want a bra or not?"

"I want you both to leave!" Olivia snapped.

Alex shrugged and smiled at Casey, "She wants all natural, give it to her."

"Done," Casey shrugged and literally shoved the t shirt over Olivia's head, "Arms, let's go. Give'em to me."

"Screw-"

"Yeah," Casey chuckled and struggled to get Olivia's arm through the sleeve, "that's what Paul and I were doing when Elliot called," she told her and twisted her arm to get it through the last sleeve.

"Geeze Casey!" Olivia grumbled, "I'm not Gumby!"

"Nope, just dummy," Casey said and simply rolled to her side, "You wearing underwear, 'cause that's something neither of us want to deal with."

Olivia flung back to the bed and tried desperately to get Alex off of her legs. "You gain weight, Alex?"

"Sticks and stones, my friend," Alex smiled, "Sticks and stones."

"Let's go," Casey grunted as she pulled at Olivia's hips, "Alright Alex, pull'em off."

"Guys! I'm gonna kick your –"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Casey muttered and both women pulled the pajama bottoms straight down.

"I don't believe this," Olivia groaned, "I give up."

Alex and Casey grinned and offered each other a victory high five, "Get out of that bed and put your jeans on," Alex commanded, "I swear Olivia, if you weren't so stubborn, we wouldn't have had to do it."

Olivia sat at the edge of the bed and scrubbed her face before running her hands through her hair, "Did you ever possibly think," her voice began to rise, "that maybe I'm not being stubborn! That maybe, _just maybe_, I'm freaking out!" she yelled and began to cry, her strength to fight quickly faltering, "Did you ever think that… I don't know what to do?"

Casey exhaled and kneeled in front of Olivia who slowly pulled the sheet over her bare thighs and wiped quickly at her cheeks, "Olivia," Casey said softly as Alex sat next to her and wrapped her arm around her, "We don't know what's happening. We know that we haven't heard from you-"

"We know that Isaac asks me to help you and Sam calls every day to see if we can do something," Alex interrupted softly and offered a gentle squeeze.

"Elliot called." Casey whispered, "And we came… willing to fight," she said and slowly sat on the opposite side of her, "You didn't let me sulk, you and Alex came over and pulled me out of bed… I'm returning the favor."

Olivia took in a deep breath and shook her head, "I- I don't want to leave my house."

"Well," Alex said softly, "I guess it's a good thing we didn't ask you what you wanted… get up." she told her firmly and offered her hand.

"I don't know what to do." Olivia whispered and stared beyond Alex's hand, "I… I don't."

Casey and Alex both stood up and grabbed Olivia under her arms, "Let's go," Casey smiled as Alex thrust the pants into Olivia's arms, "You or us, but whatever you pick those pants are going on."

Olivia exhaled and slowly slipped into the jeans buckling them and running her hand through her hair, "I need a bra, I can't go out like this,"

"Tough, wear this," Casey said and tossed her a sweater, "next time you'll take us serious."

"Guys," Olivia started.

"Shut it," Alex told her and both women ushered her out of the room.

Olivia pulled the sweater over her body, took a look in the mirror, "Where are we going that you think it's okay I go without a bra?"

"Just to a café," Casey told her as she hunted for a pair of slip ons from the foyer closet, "I didn't know you wore Sketcher's," she mused and tossed them in front of Olivia.

"You ladies got enough money and stuff?" Elliot asked timidly.

Olivia turned from the door and glared at him.

"Um," Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, "Can I… uh, talk with, Liv, real quick?"

"Careful," Casey said as she and Alex went outside, "She'll sneak off."

Olivia leaned up against the wall and exhaled.

"Liv," Elliot whispered and cautiously closed the gap between them, "Liv-"

"I just wanted to sleep, Elliot," she sniffled and shook her head, "I didn't want visitors and I didn't want to be dragged out of bed."

He took a step closer to her, caressed her cheek and let his hand rest on her quivering chin, "It's what's best for you," he said softly. "You needed to get out of that bed, and out of this house, Liv."

She closed her eyes, unconcerned that her tears would pool in the web of his hand, "I'm sorry," she began to cry and lean forward into his embrace, "I'm so sorry, Elliot."

He wrapped his arms around her body and held her tightly, "It's gonna be okay, Olivia. I promise you, it will," he assured her and kissed her gently on the crown of her head. He pulled her back softly to look at her and when she wouldn't make eye contact with him, he slowly leaned forward and kissed her lips as he let his thumb wipe away her tears. She didn't kiss him back, her body too overloaded for anything other than receiving and he didn't mind, "I love you," he told her again and slowly began to fix her tussled hair, "I love you and I want you to go out and talk with your friends, it doesn't have to be about Oliver, but you do have to talk, Olivia, you do need to let yourself have some fun. Have some happiness."

She sniffled, "You make me happy, Elliot. I could stay here."

"No," he shook his head softly and ran his finger tips along her cheek, "I'm not gonna let you get sick again. I'm not gonna let you stay in the house and not eat-"

"I ate," she argued weakly, "please don't make me go."

He kissed her again and opened the door, "She's ready, guys," he told them and gently pushed her out of the house, locking the door behind them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"One white-chocolate-mocha," Alex smiled and lowered the hot beverage in front of Olivia, "and for you," Alex raised a brow at Casey, "straight black- that's disgusting, put some crème in it. Do something."

"Puts hair on your chest," Casey responded absently and gained a curious yet repulsed look from both women. "Shut up," was all she could offer back.

Casey and Alex had deliberately picked the table in the deepest corner of the cafe they could find both for privacy of conversation and because they really did feel bad for forcing Olivia out of her home without a bra. The Café was its typical noisy atmosphere with groups laughing and talking about things both trivial and from the looks of a couple who appeared to be fighting in hushed whispers, serious.

Olivia took a small sip of her drink and thanked God silently that the café was darkened; the muted lights made her feel like she wasn't going to be dissected. She was even more thankful that her friends were sitting in silence and merely ensuring that she got out of the house, although, if she knew them like she knows she does… they are dying to know what is happening. Both because they are friends in the truest sense and because, let's face it, all three of them are nosey when it comes to each other.

Olivia bit at her bottom lip, the taste of coffee still present and she wished Elliot would have been there to place the order because he would have told the cashier to put two shot of cherry in it. Three shots because she needed more than the typical two. He would have kissed her sometime during the night and told her she tasted like cherry. She licked her lips and frowned. There was no comfort of Elliot or the kids, there was no cherry, only mocha, "How's Robert?" she asked because she didn't know what else to say.

"Good, he's really good," Alex beamed, "Thomas is going to be a spitting image of him."

"Sorry… I didn't pick him up for church last Sunday," Olivia furrowed her brows and turned to stare out the window.

"Ehh," Alex shrugged, "you know how I feel about that anyway."

Olivia nodded slightly, "Addison? How is he?"

"He's eating like nothing I've seen," Casey grinned, "Between he and his father, they are eating me out of house and home."

She gave an absent nod again and suddenly looked at them both, "Chloe? Warner?"

Casey reached out and touched Olivia's hand, "You missed Chloe's birthday… she asked about you."

Olivia leaned back and groaned, "Crap. I completely forgot."

"That's apparent," Alex chuckled, "she's not upset but you need to go see her."

Olivia nodded and exhaled "I know… I've been… I don't know, it's just been one thing after another with Elliot and I, right now and…" she groaned, "I'm sorry I'm a mess, guys."

Both women laughed, Casey took a sip of her drink, "I didn't give up sex with my husband tonight to hear an apology."

Olivia lifted her brow, "At least you're having sex."

"Uh oh," Alex leaned forward, "Do we have a root of the problem, so soon?"

Olivia furrowed her brows and then suddenly realized, "What? No," she shook her head, "No. It's - believe me, we've both wanted to… I just… I don't know. I'm in this funk and… well you really can't blame him right? I mean eight days without a shower is-"

"Disgusting," Casey smirked.

"Thank you," Olivia dead panned. "How's Carp and that new baby of his?"

"Soarin is the cutest little guy, he's got these huge eyes and this hair that doesn't stop… they ask about you too, you know?" Alex reminded her, "We all love you Olivia… what's going on?"

She ran her hand through her hair and shook her head and the ladies across from her couldn't decide if she had more gray hairs than usual, if the bags under her eyes were more prominent tonight than any other day, "Elliot got his test results back," she muttered almost low enough that they had to struggle to hear it.

"Not what you had hoped for, I take it." Alex said compassionately.

"Not what _he_ hoped for," Olivia corrected, "it's what I expected."

"You two fighting?" Casey asked taking a sip of her coffee.

Olivia played absently with the insulator on her cup and shook her head, "He got drunk… destroyed the master bedroom."

"Ah," Alex narrowed her brow, "and here we thought he was innocent."

"He is," Olivia smiled sadly, "the drinking, I think I handled that pretty well. I even handled the holes in the wall and broken pictures and everything else, but," she furrowed her brows and swallowed rising emotion.

"What is it?" Casey urged her gently, "it's okay, Olivia… whatever it is, we'll help you guys. That's what we're here for, right? You help us, we help you. That's how it goes."

Olivia sniffled and wiped under nose with the back of her hand, "I'm not so sure you guys can help on this one."

Alex furrowed her brows in seriousness, "You guys aren't… I mean… the D-word hasn-"

"Nope." Olivia shook her head emphatically, "No. It's not that kind of stress. And just so we're clear, that's not ever an option between us. I think we'd kill each other before we actually even thought of a divorce," she smirked and all three women let out a gentle chuckle.

"What is it, Olivia? Tell us," Casey encouraged.

Olivia exhaled and began a small but steady tare in the brown insulator, "When I was cleaning up the bedroom, I found something."

"He having an affair?" Casey pulled back, the thoughy obviously shocking her own mind.

"No," Olivia smirked sadly, "I wish it were that black and white."

Alex's brows shot up, "You whish your husband had an affair?"

"I didn't say that," Olivia exhaled and rubbed her temple, "I said I wish that this was as black and white, as right and wrong, as the concept of an affair."

"So… no affair?" Casey double checked.

"Guys," Olivia looked compassionately at both of them "Elliot, is a good man. He's made some mistakes, but so have I… you've got to give him a chance. He's not a bad husband. He's a great father and he'd never purposefully hurt me or the kids-"

"Sounds like your building him up to us… what gives, Olivia?"

Olivia exhaled, "Oliver… has, uh…" she tore the insulator clean in half, "he's been writing me letters."

"Okay," Alex nodded not sure where to go from here, "what did they say?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip, her anxiousness apparent, "He was begging me to visit him. Said he's changed."

"Rapists don't change, Olivia, you know that." Casey said firmly.

"I know," Olivia agreed and tucked her hair behind her ear, "I know."

A long moment of silence embraced them both until Casey urged the conversation along a little more, "You gonna visit?"

Olivia furrowed her brow and looked up at both of them, her anguish written clearly in her eyes, "I already did."

Both women leaned back in their chair, their eyes wide, "Wow," Alex breathed.

"Yeah, what she said," Casey nodded, "What… I mean, can you tell us what happened?"

Olivia took another sip of her cooling coffee and licked her lips, "He's uh… apparently, he's dying… cancer."

"Good," Casey nodded firmly, "Good. Glad to hear that."

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, "I was too," she whispered and wiped her wet cheek.

"Was?" Alex leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand, "come on, Olivia, you've got to talk."

Olivia thumbed her eye brow and sniffled, "He uh… he got married while he was locked up."

"Married?" Alex asked incredulously, "Are you kidding me? Who would marry a rapist and a killer?"

Olivia took a deep breath and raised her brows, "She was pretty young, I think. Probably didn't understand everything, I don't know," she shook her head as if forcing all her thoughts to fall in the correct spaces, "She's dead."

"He kill her?" Alex's brow shot up. Typical ADA and Casey's brows were right behind her.

To their surprise Olivia let out a sob of laughter and shook her head, "Such lawyers," she licked her lips and allowed for a small deviation in her mood as she jutted her chin to Alex's coffee, "Good?"

"Want some?"

"Yeah," she smiled and took a small sip, "Toffee nut?"

"Yep," Alex grinned, "Give it back before you suck it down."

Olivia arched a brow and took a lengthy sip before returning it to it's owner, "Good stuff."

"Want some?" Casey smiled and held her coffee up.

"I'll pass… reminds me of Munch," she smiled softly and looked out the window, "he'd know what to do right now… as funny and odd as he was, he… he always knew what to do."

"What are we?" Alex finished a drink of her coffee, "Chopped liver?"

Olivia smiled apologetically, "No. You know that."

"Yeah," Casey smirked, "but we like guilt trips too. Come on Olivia… what gives?"

Olivia looked at them both and exhaled, effectively giving up, "What if I told you… he had a son?"

Casey stopped mid drink of her coffee and lowered it slowly to the table as Alex simply stared, "A son?" Casey asked in confusion, "How? I mean- I get how it happens, but… he's been in prison-"

"Conjugal visits," Alex interrupted, "As soon as he was married he was eligible… wow. Olivia you have… a nephew."

Olivia's face shot up and anger graced her features before she had a chance to decide on any choice of words, "Don't say that!" she hissed.

Alex took her rebuke in stride, "Olivia… it's okay, to have some extended family."

Olivia began to squirm and her increasing uneasiness became more and more noticeable, "It's more than extended family, Alex!" she snapped, "This _boy_ is the child of a rapist. Of the man who raped _me_!"

"Hey," Casey pulled her chair up closer to Olivia when curious eyes started paying far too much attention to them, "Hey, it's okay, Olivia," she said softly, "it is. You don't have to see this boy, you don't have to know anything about him. If you don't want to. You've got three amazing little boys and a pretty fantastic little girl at home and as far as I'm concerned Addison is your nephew."

"Sam with Thomas and I'm sure Soarin as well," Alex told her gently and moved her chair just a little closer to her friend. Coffee forgotten.

Olivia covered her face and began to cry in the shelter of her friends covering, "You don't understand what I'm saying," she sniffled.

"Then tell us," Alex whispered and gently lowered her hands from her face, "Tell us, so we can understand and help you."

Olivia wiped at her face and looked between both women, their compassion and love for her egging her into confession of a sin that wasn't even hers. Of a sin that wasn't a sin but sure as hell felt like it. "Oliver is dying," she began slowly, "His wife is dead… the grandmother doesn't want the baby…. I'm assuming because of who the father is. She's gonna give him away as soon as Oliver dies."

"Okay," Alex whispered softly. "If you're worried that he won't be placed, Casey and I have friends still in the adoption court, and we can make sure he get's put on… what's his name… uh, Casey, help me out-" 

"Christoff. We can pull strings for you Olivia, he'll have a good case manager and he'll be placed in a good home-"

"That's just it," Olivia's face crumbled, "Oliver… wants his son… in my home."

Alex and Casey looked at each other in shock and then slowly re-directed their gaze at Olivia, "Well," Casey exhaled slowly, "I think that caused for eight days in a bed. Definitely."

"You think?" Olivia sniffled and smirked, "I don't know what to do. This isn't fair."

Alex nodded in agreement, "It isn't. But-"

"But?" Olivia looked at her, "But what? You think Elliot and I should raise him? Bring him into our home? Have him around my children?"

"He's not a virus, Olivia," Casey interjected softly, "he's not contagious, he's just a little boy."

Olivia's nostrils flared and she stared at Casey, "Whose father raped me."

"We're not discounting that, Olivia." Alex said, softly defending Casey before possible blood shed. "You opened up to us. Have we ever told you things just to appease you?"

Olivia scoffed and smiled "No."

"We won't now," Casey told her softly. "He's just a boy."

"He's being forced on me," Olivia whispered and looked at both friends, pleading for their understanding, "What is the difference between being raped by Oliver and getting pregnant or this?"

"The difference is control," Alex interjected firmly. "You hold all the cards right now Olivia, you have the ability to make a little boy prosper and flourish or founder and die."

"Nice, Alex. Way to lessen the pressure," Olivia exhaled.

"What she means," Casey told her gently, "Is that you and Elliot are good people, you've got a great family and you two are finally back on track after a whole lot of crap… you have the control right now-"

"No I don't!" Olivia hissed, "I've never had the control! The minute I was born I never had control! Never!"

"Olivia," Casey continued but was cut off.

"He's taking what little bit of control I have fought for, away from me, by asking me to raise his son! He told me that he was counting on my compassion… he knows exactly what he's doing! He made sure to tell me what a fabulous person I am and then asked! He trapped me!"

"No," Casey whispered, "you're trapping yourself,"

Alex and Olivia both looked at Casey in surprise and Alex's eyes begged Casey to clarify or risk having Olivia shut down on both of them. Casey continued, "He's asked you to do something, and yeah, it's pretty crappy the way he did it, and its really crappy what he's asking you, but… what did you tell the victims? You told them to give up fighting for control so that they could live. I'm thinking you need to give up some control so you can live Olivia. So that little boy can live."

"I shouldn't have to!" Olivia snarled, "He's not my responsibility!"

Alex interjected quickly, hoping to deescalate Olivia, "What does Elliot say?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Typical Elliot. He'll be with me no matter what the decision."

"He's letting you choose?" Alex furrowed her brow, "Without asking him?"

"Apparently," Olivia whispered, "This isn't fair."

"Sounds like Elliot is offering you even more control, Olivia," Alex said softly, "You know, you and Elliot have come a very long way. It's been really great to see you two grow and raise a family, but one thing I've never seen you do, is give your control up."

"What do you call my current state of mind, then?" Olivia scoffed.

"Oh, I've seen you _loose_ your control," Alex smirked, "But… I've never seen you willingly _give _it up… it's different when you give it up. You give it up because you trust what you'll get in return. You use to tell rape victims that it was okay to not be in control during the rape, because it saved their life… I have to agree with Casey, here, Olivia… Oliver is taking you're control. _Taking._ Why don't you just give it to him?"

Olivia looked at both women and reiterated her stance, "That little boy is not my responsibility."

"You're right," Casey nodded and leaned back, "He's not," she agreed and took a sip of her coffee, "which means, when you really get down to it… you have all the control in world."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia trudged up the steps to her home, as the headlights of Alex's car pulled out of the driveway and made their slow pace down the path and eventually back onto the road. She's not sure what all she got out of that conversation but what she is sure of is that she really needed to get out of the house, even if it was into a cramped and noisy café. She inserted the key into the door and made haste in going through the motions of disarming the alarm and kicking her shoes off in the hallway.

She yawned and stretched in the darkened hallway and then caught the figure on the couch, looking a little closer, she smiled to herself and walked slowly to the sleeping boy, "Samuel," she whispered, "Wake up, son."

"Not asleep," he said in a voice so coated with sleep she knew he was lying.

"I see," she smiled softly and felt the cushion near his mouth, "the puddle of drool on the cushion says otherwise," she chuckled and kissed his head. "You need a hair cut."

He stretched and turned over to his back, "You were supposed to do it yesterday, remember?" he asked without a trace of accusation or resentment in his voice.

She smiled sadly, "I've forgotten quite a few things around here, haven't I?"

"Yeah," he agreed softly and reached for her face, feeling the worry and stress that was engrained in her features, "It's okay, though, Mom. I know your heart hurts, right now."

"It does," she whispered and kneeled next to the couch, "How come you came out here, baby?"

"Wanted to wait for you," he said softy, "I heard you and dad talking in the hallway… what are you sorry for, mom?"

She closed her eyes and licked her lips, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, for a lot of things, baby."

"Like what?" he asked, "Tell me?"

"Sam… it's grow-"

"Grown up stuff, I know… but you know what else I know?" he asked and sat up so his legs rested on either side of his mother's body, his arms wrapped around her neck as he hugged her from behind.

"What?" she sniffled, "tell me, what you know."

"You can do anything," he whispered against her cheek. "You can do anything, I promise you mom. Nothing is too hard."

She sobbed and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck, "You really believe that, son?"

"I know it," he whispered, "Don't you remember that day, mom, when Dad asked you to marry him in the living room?"

She let out a laugh, "Yeah. I couldn't forget that."

He hugged her tighter, "I saw inside of you mom. God let me see you, for only a second," he whispered and felt his mother's body grow slack in his embrace, "I saw who you were and you're amazing," he told her and before she cold protest, he whispered directly into her ear, "you can do anything, I promise," he said and offered a gentle kiss, "Good night mom."

She held his hand as he walked away, felt his fingertips graze her palm as he distanced himself, "Good night son."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia watched the foam of her toothpaste swirl around in the sink as she prepared her self to go to sleep. To put the long day behind her and curl up into Elliot's sleeping embrace that she knew would automatically envelope her the moment she slid into the cool of their sheets. She discarded her robe to the foot of the bed and opted to sleep naked next to her husband even though he was wearing a wife beater and boxers. She nestled as close to him as possible and was surprised to feel a bulging erection tap against her naval.

She looked up at him, eyes still closed with the burden of sleep, his face hinting at the smallest smile. She propped her head up on her palm and stared down at him. Such an amazing man, her husband. Amazing because he can handle her, put up with her… love her. Amazing because he's given her the most beautiful children she's ever laid eyes on, amazing because he always does the right thing when it comes to her. She understands the alcohol - doesn't accept it, never will, but she does understand the driving force behind it. She understands that while it's not entirely her fault, there are aspects of her personality that certainly do not help him.

Her unrelenting stubbornness.

Her insecurities, that while, most have been extinguished, some still stalk her, taunt her. She's not sure she'll ever be the perfect mother or wife, but what she knows, without the faintest shadow of a doubt, is that it is this man next to her that gets her through her days and her nights. It's his smile, his grace and his love for her that makes her fight to be a better person, to be a better woman.

She trailed her fingertip along the shape of his lips, "I love you," she said softly, not intending on waking him up. She laid her fingers splayed over his cheek and kissed the tip of his nose, "I love you so much," she murmured as he slept and she continued to let her hand drift over his chest, slowly snaking it's way to the slit of his boxers, before kissing him again, a little firmer, but soft enough that all he did was return the gentle peck with one of his own before snuggling closer to her.

She smiled softly and gently freed him from his boxers, a soft stroke on the underside of his penis with her fingernail before taking him slowly and firmly into her grip and caressing him. His eyes shot open like he's woken up and just remembered something very important. Only, his sleepy grin gave her permission to continue.

"Thank you," she whispered and kissed his mouth as she provided more friction to his throbbing length.

"For what?" he groaned, resting his forehead against her shoulder.

"For making me get out of the house," she said and gently pushed him to his back, smiling at his displeasure in loosing her contact. "Let me touch you tonight, Elliot. Let me-" she was cut off when he suddenly rolled and pinned her to the mattress, his mouth on her neck in an instant, one forearm supporting his weight, the other hand caressing her breast with hunger and need, as if eight days was far too long for him to go without her.

And it was.

She rolled her head to the side, feeling his mouth suck and kiss and nip as frantically as he possibly could, the heat of his breath the wramth of his body over hers. He wanted her in spite of the mess she was in and all she knew was how amazing it felt to be the object of his want. Of his need.

"Elliot-" she moaned, "I wanted to give you-'

"I know," he mumbled against her skin and thrust his hips into hers "I know. But I want you. I want you right now," he groaned and let his exposed length graze her body.

She gasped and instantly bent her legs up, "Elliot, I'm sorry," she sobbed and pulled his hips deeper into her, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he whispered and kissed her breast. There was no foreplay here, no gentle circles around the nipple. He'd gone straight for the gold and took her into his mouth sucking from her frantically until she whined and wiggled under him. He moved to the next and got the same results.

She reached between them both and grabbed him firmly, stroked him and reached further into the slit of his boxers and fondled his sac. He let her nipple go, not because he wanted to, but because of the surprise sensation her hand brought. He let her go and laid his head over her breast, his groan and pleasure evident as he thrust into her hand. She ran her thumb over the head of his penis and he growled over her skin, instantly pushing himself up and pulling at the fabric of his boxers, "I need you," he panted and she instantly tugged at his clothes and adjusted her legs at the same time.

She barely exposed him, barely got the boxers to his thighs when he sunk fast and deep into her. She arched up into him and hissed his name as he moaned into her skin, "Okay?" he ground out.

"Mmm hmm," she squealed and bucked against him.

He moved deep, his mouth over her neck as she dug into his back, "Oh yeah," she let fall from her mouth and felt him go after her, felt him drive himself and his love into her, his grunts and his growls and even his bites telling her he'd missed her. In the eight days she couldn't face, he'd missed her.

He thrust again into her and she bit back a yelp as he hooked his arm under her leg and brought it up higher. She accepted his weight all over again as he dove into her body, deeper. She wrapped her arm around him, hoping he'd stay but surprised when he let out a moan of satisfaction and raised his body, her leg still hooked over his arm. He peered down at himself as he withdrew just slightly, just enough for both of them look. She held him at his sides, offering a little bit of help with his weight but more than anything else she wanted to see him move in and out of her body.

And she did.

She smiled, and it was genuine and it was happy and carefree, and when her fingers grazed the base of his penis, her smile was all mischief. She stroked him once more, he shuddered and groaned as she raised her arms and stretched them over her head, making herself his in anyway that he wanted her to be.

In an instant, he'd hooked her remaining leg and reached up with both of his hands grabbing her arms and bringing them down to her side, he griped her biceps, rested his weight there with her legs spread wide into the air and pushed his body up pulling out and slamming back in. "Mmm," was all she offered with each deep and hard thrust. She felt his body slap against hers, felt the vice grip of his fingers in her arms and knew she'd be bruised but couldn't care less at this point. He saw her wince and immediately started to back off, to lessen the intensity of his thrust, "No," she moaned and arched her neck, "keep going," she begged and reached up to grasp his elbows as he continued to pin her biceps and then began to thrust again.

The sensation of the new position, the depth and the confidence with which he invaded her, the small pain in her arms from his possessive grip, his hot breath and intense rocking of his hips forced her to come in a matter of seconds, without buildup or warning, her body burst and she gave way to a guttural moan.

He covered her mouth with his own, felt her muscles clamping down on him as he continued to move in shallow slow strides, all the while gently lowering his weight onto her, her knees still bent up to her sides and still hooked around his arms. He released her biceps and thrust softly into her again, her muscles griped him again and he came with a jerk of his hips as he moaned into her mouth, kissing her and wishing he was so much younger, that his body was in better condition so he didn't have to worry about the recovery time, because he wanted her again and he hadn't even left her body yet.

He moaned and pulled away from her mouth shaking his head, "Liv… so good."

He gave a feeble attempt at a thrust and she moaned again as he kissed her neck, "Love you," she whispered as he collapsed on top of her body and her arms held him there, "I love you so much, Elliot," she whispered and continued to hold him.


	10. Strongest Man I Know

Silver Lining

Chapter 10: Strongest Man I Know

"Elliot?" Olivia rubbed her eyes as she walked down the hall, the morning sun telling her it was later than she thought it should be. "El?"

"Right here," he grinned from the kitchen and motioned to the kitchen table, "You need to eat." he said softly and embraced her from behind, "Need to keep healthy," he said and kissed her cheek.

She smiled, "You made me breakfast?"

"Yep," he kissed her chastely and pulled out a chair for her, "sit down, enjoy your meal, huh?"

She sat and looked at her plate, perfect pancakes, fresh fruit and bacon. Her head shot back up and she looked at the house, it was far too quiet, "Kids? Where are the kids?"

"Chloe took the monsters to play with Matthew and I took the boys to school."

"Oh, no," she shook her head and rested her forehead in her hand, "I told Isaac I'd wake him up."

Elliot kissed the top of her head, "He told me that this morning… I put him in bed with you for a little while."

She grinned, "Really? Was he disappointed?"

Elliot laughed, "No. You reached out and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was in heaven. You on the other hand, were completely out of it."

She smirked, "Uh… you sort of did me in last night."

He grinned, "It was only three minutes, tops."

She smiled as he took the seat next to her, the seats that Isaac and Sam would typically sit in, but that this morning they sat next to one another in, "Best three minutes."

He blushed, "You think?"

"Yeah… right up there with the dressing room," she waggled her brows at him as she sipped from her juice. "Thank you… for this," she motioned to her plate, "it looks really good."

He smiled soflty and wrapped his arm around her, a small kiss pressed against her hair, "You deserve things that are really good, Olivia."

She leaned into him and rested there, taking a bite of her pancake and laughing, "Chocolate chips?"

"Yeah," he said softly and kissed the hinge of her jaw as she chewed, he held her close, never for an instant wanting her to go back to the bedroom to hide.

"You eating?" she asked as she cut into her pancake with a fork.

"No," he said, letting his hand caress her hair, "Just… watching."

She looked up at him, saw the worry in his face and caressed his bearded cheek, "Don't worry, Elliot. We'll figure it out."

He nodded softly and smiled when she brought a small bite of food up to his lips, "Come on," she said, "need to eat. Stay healthy."

The corner of his mouth turned into a smile and he slowly leaned forward, taking the food from the fork and chewing. He reached for a napkin as he swallowed and felt the syrup trickle down his lip. She covered his hand and stretched up letting her tongue flicker over his syrupy lip before sucking softly and pulling away gently, "I love you."

He nodded softly and gently raised the sleeve of her shirt just an inch to see her bicep, "I'm sorry," he said sincerely and stroked his finger over the bruise that had already set in, "I didn't mea-"

She grinned, "Believe me. It's fine."

He laughed and let her finish her meal, occasionally stealing a bite of food here and there, but it was somewhere near the last bite of bacon and the last bite of pancake that the door bell rang and both of them turned to look at the door, "Alex is in school," Olivia whispered, "Casey is working."

"Robert and Paul are in the same boat."

"Chloe?" Olivia asked as they both stood, still looking at the door.

"She has The Monsters, she'd of called first… you expecting anyone?"

"No, that's why I went down the list," she muttered and looked at her attire, "Can you see who it is? I'm in my pajamas."

Elliot kissed her forehead as the doorbell rang again, "Sure. You're beautiful, you know that?"

She blushed and swatted him playfully, "If it's an auditor tell them they can-"

"Bite you, I know," Elliot chuckled and went to the door as Olivia bolted down the hall to change. Elliot looked through the peep hole and instantly frowned at what he saw. An unfamiliar yet harmless man standing on the other side. Grey hair, glasses and impeccable suit save that white line that told Elliot there was more to this than he was ready to handle this morning. His mind raced. Someone die? No. Cragen? No. Carp? Oh, no… had something happened- no, they'd have gone to Amiee. Fin, oh, no. Fin didn't have family and- Elliot's thoughts were broken with another doorbell ring this time followed by a knock.

"Elliot," Olivia called from the hall as she slipped a shirt on, "you answering the door or-" she stopped immediately, her hands absently fixing the hem of her shirt as she watched the minister step into her home, Elliot's confused face mirroring her own, "El?"

Elliot turned to her and moved to stand beside her, "Can I help you?" Elliot asked.

"Forgive me for my persistence," the minister smiled apologetically, "but I do have a matter of great urgency."

"I'm sorry," Olivia shook her head, "your name?"

"Oh," he blushed in embarrassment and offered his hand to Olivia and then to Elliot, "I'm David Stockdale, I'm a minister at… the prison your brother was held at."

Olivia cringed and took a small step back, "I'm sorry you wasted your time Mr. Stockdale. I don't have a brother. My husband will see you out."

"Please," Mr. Stockdale urged her and there was something about a minister pleading with her that didn't sit right with her and forced her to listen.

Olivia exhaled and looked at Elliot who simply took her hand in his and looked back at the minister, "Would you like to sit down?" Olivia asked.

"No thank you," he smiled softly and offered a light bow of his head, "I won't take much of your time."

"Is he dead?" Olivia blurted and felt both men cringe in front of her for her bluntness, "is that why you're here?"

Mr. Stockdale held Olivia's gaze and saw the wounds on her soul, understood the reason she didn't want him in her home, understood what he represented to her. The truth. That her brother had in fact changed. "He was, the prodigal son."

"He was a rapist," she bit back coldly. "He raped me. That's what he's about."

The middle aged minister nodded, "He was that, yes. He told me what he did to you and I can only tell you that he spent countless hours in my office, begging me for a forgiveness I could not give him."

"I thought that's what you're supposed to do," Elliot said softly and held Olivia tighter.

He smiled at Elliot, "The only person who can offer forgiveness is the person that was wronged and God… I can only suggest a way to get back to the two."

"I don't want him back," Olivia bit, "do you hear me? I don't ever want to see him."

"He knows that," Mr. Stockdale said softly and in a tone that surprised Olivia. He wasn't here defending Oliver, no he was here to do something else.

"What do you need?" Olivia asked, "I'm not going to see him if that's what you want."

Mr. Stockdale licked his lips and exhaled, "You're brother-"

"He's not my brother, I already told you that," Olivia interrupted.

"Oliver," the pastor continued, "has slipped into a coma as of yesterday evening. It's just a matter of time, Mrs. Stabler… he's going to die."

"Best news I've ever had," she smiled weakly. She hated that she was coming off as an uncompassionate and hard hearted person but did this man really expect her to care about Oliver?

"Forgiveness," Mr. Stockdale began and was quickly cut off.

"I know all about forgiveness, Mr. Stockdale, please, there is no need to waste your time."

He smiled softly, "I was going to say, Olivia, that forgiveness is an act, a process, it doesn't come all at once and it certainly isn't easy, especially considering the great violation you endured, but… it is possible."

Olivia stood her ground, "I. Will not. Forgive his trespass."

"Okay," the minister smiled in understanding, "But… will you consider Drake?"

Both she and Elliot furrowed their brows, "Uh," Olivia shook her head, "maybe if I knew who that was."

"Drake is Oliver's one month old son… who needs a family that will love him because his grandmother is already going through the process to give him up for adoption because she believes there is no hope for a rapist's child."

"Well," Olivia exhaled, "looks like there is a smart one in the family."

Mr. Stockdale nodded toward Elliot whose face bore just as much torment as Olivia's did, "I believe your husband would disagree with that statement."

She'd walked right into that one.

"Mr. Stockdale," Olivia clenched her jaw, "I believe it's time you left."

He nodded softly, "Indeed," he said and reached into his jacket, "from what I understand the grandmother has given Oliver time to gather friends that will take Drake. I have to say, the pool he's looking at, isn't too great. Ex-con's most of them. I'm told by his physicians that it could be as little as hours or days until he's no longer with us. The grandmother will either give him to some pretty seedy people are turn him over to the state, which isn't' any better. You know that," he said and pulled out a small white paper, laying it face down on the foyer stand, offering a quick bow of his head, "Good day to you," he said and walked out of the home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot had left almost immediately after Mr. Stockdale, not because he wanted to, but because Isaac was having a melt down at school and Alex had called, suggesting that he be picked up before another suspension followed. He'd called Olivia to tell her that she needed to be at the school by three for a 'team meeting'. The long awaited meeting to tell her they thought her son was 'emotionally disturbed'. Wouldn't the average person be a little wound up if someone shoved them in a cellar for thirteen months?

And so, it has been her in the house, but she has refused to crawl into the bed. Instead she has kept herself busy with daily chores that she has fallen behind in. But as she folds the mound of laundry on the couch, that little white piece of paper catches her eye just in front of her and it has peeked her curiosity for far too long. Thirty seven minutes to be exact. She'd hoped Elliot would have come home, but she knew he'd be taking Isaac from school to the gym to take care of her paperwork.

Another aspect she's fallen behind on.

Finally, as she folded Hannah's favorite pair of underwear specifically because they had wonder woman on them, the paper had gotten the best of her. She could withstand the bedroom, but not the paper. No, the paper had a more enticing feel to it. Not in a good way either. It was one of those, I-know-there-is-a-dead-animal-under-this-branch-but-I'm-gonna-look-anyway, types of things.

She side stepped the couch and made her way to the paper, she picked it up, staring at the smooth white surface and she'd wished she'd never picked it up because on the back, in faint gray were the stamped words, Kodak Paper. She was holding a picture and before she even turned it over in her hand she knew of whom.

Drake.

And for some reason instead of picturing what this little boy looks like, she pictures in her mind, Isaac-huddled in Adrianne's embrace. Protected and safe in the arms of another woman who was not his mother, but whose love extended to him as if she were because he was a child. Innocent. She pictures Samuel, the scared and confused little boy they adopted and who slowly is becoming a man. She wonders for a small moment if he will ever tell them why he has stopped all communication with Crystal.

She swallows.

Turns the picture over.

And is relieved to see a small post it note covering the child's face. The minister has been kind enough to leave his number and name. Jerk. She licks her lips, let's her index finger play just under the yellow piece of paper before finally muttering a soft, "God, help me," and removing the only boundary between her and unconditional love.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Thank you for meeting me," Olivia said weakly as she found herself sitting at the very table her friends had dragged her to in a braless state just last night.

"I must admit… I was surprised."

Olivia bit her bottom lip and surveyed the café, "Coffee?"

"No, thank you. I don't drink it."

"Mormon?"

Mr. Stockdale laughed, "No. No, ulcer in fact."

Olivia nodded softly and shook her head, "Right. Of course."

Mr. Stockdale took a deep breath, "What's on your mind Mrs. Stabler?"

She furrowed her brow, "You know exactly why I'm here, don't you?"

Mr. Stockdale leaned back in the chair and clasped his fingers in front of him, his pale skin against he maroon of his button down shirt, "Mrs. Stabler-"

"Olivia… please?"

"Olivia… you're here for reasons only you know."

"That's bull and you know it," she said and leaned forward in anger, "What did he tell you? What did Oliver tell you that makes you search me out and leave a picture of his son for me?" she hissed and tossed the picture in front of him.

The middle-aged minister picked up the picture and gazed at the young life contained within it's boundaries, "I gave him a blessing when he was… I think two weeks old." he chuckled and placed the picture back down on the table, "That little boy cried and cried and cried and there was nothing we could do to stop him form doing so."

Olivia visibly deflated, "You can't humanize him to me. It's not going to work. You can't tell me his age and name and tell me some cute story and think I'll fall in love with him."

Mr. Stockdale smiled, "Maybe. Are we done here?"

Olivia furrowed her brows, "Done?" she leaned back and shook her head in anger, "You can't just waltz into my home and ask me to take on this burden and not expect me to have some outrage-"

"I expect," he said softly and covered her hand with his, "all the outrage in the world from you, Olivia. I expect all the outrage and hurt to pour out of your husband, but what I also expect is that you both will look deep within you and see that you can do anything. That nothing is too hard."

Her jaw went slack, "W-what did you just say?"

"He won't give you anything you can't handle, Olivia… He doesn't work that way," he said softly.

She pulled her hand back and rested it under the table, "And just how does He work Mr. Stockdale, because I can assure you that He has brought me to the edge more than a few times."

"Indeed He has," Mr. Stockdale smiled, "You are the female Job as it would seem. Just like Job everything is being tested and tried and you are being sifted to see if your faith will withstand, and similarly, like Job, when Satan is done sifting, something beautiful will remain."

Olivia shook her head softly, "But… why would He just give Elliot and I over like that? If I'm correct, didn't Satan _ask_ to sift Job and _He allowed_ it? Sounds pretty jacked up if you ask me."

"Good thing no one asked," the minister smirked then leaned forward, "Yes, the Evil One asks for permission, and yes He allows it, but only to show the world that you will stand firm. Unyielding."

She swallowed, "I won't do this."

"Olivia," he licked his lips and leaned forward, his arms crossed on top of the table, "Did it ever occur to you the amount of trust Oliver has put in you?"

Her nostrils flared, "What should I do, Mr. Stockdale? Grovel at his feet for the opportunity?"

He licked his lips and smirked, "You really are everything he described you to be… tenacious. A go getter."

"Yeah, well. You can tell him to shove his compliments where the sun don't shine."

He chuckled lightly, "Olivia, any way you and Elliot choose in this matter, people will understand… Oliver will under-"

"I don't care if he understands or not!" she hissed and jabbed her finger into the table top. "He has no right to ask me to do this! He has no right to take control from my husband and me! He has no right to even be taking his last breaths right now! He should have died long before he could have a child"

Mr. Stockdale looked out the window and gathered his thoughts before returning to see a red-faced and rightfully angry woman, "Olivia," he started softly, "are you familiar with 'turn the other cheek' or the phrase, 'If a man asks you to walk a mile, walk two?'"

She looked at him in confusion, "Yeah, and?"

Mr. Stockdale slowly removed his glasses and held them to the light to emphasize the dust on the lenses, "In biblical times," he smiled and exhaled hot breath onto the lenses before cleaning them with his tie. "If a Roman soldier needed someone to carry his belongings he could pick any Jew he wanted and that Jew was required, by law, to carry his belongings one mile."

She blinked in confusion and irritation, "That's-that's very helpful."

"If you'd shut up," he said with a smile and placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose, "I could tell you the rest."

She held in her outburst and bowed her head conceding to him.

"The desert must have been a really brutal place, and if you can picture a young Jewish girl or boy minding their own business, taking care of their chores, and a Roman makes them stop what they are doing to serve his needs. Pretty unfair isn't it?"

She shrugged, "Life is unfair."

"Indeed," he smiled, "and so, the teachings of that time were that if a Jew was asked to carry a Roman's belongings a mile-he should go two."

"Why?" Olivia shook her head, "If they are already behind on their work at home, if the desert is such a brutal place, why go another mile? That's just ridiculous and it's not fair! You're judging a person by lineage and that's just-" she stopped immediately and knew she'd lost.

Mr. Stockdale stood to his feet, "I have an appointment, however… I will tell you that the reason they went that extra mile, was to get their control back. See, they were under control for the first mile, but not the second one. They showed a resilience and strength to battle the elements of the desert and go that extra mile… as for the lineage," he exhaled and touched her shoulder as he passed, "Very good point, indeed Olivia."

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Olivia slid to a stop just in front of the door, her proof that Isaac was very capable of being in school, held firmly in her hand as she flung the door open and saw an entire table full of people staring at her. "Sorry, I'm late," she panted and quickly pulled up a chair next to Elliot who looked at her in puzzlement.

"You okay?" he asked and rubbed her back softly.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Got tied up… hey, you," she grinned at Isaac who quickly slid off of his chair and climbed up into his mother's arms.

Isaac let out a deep breath, "I'm in trouble?"

"No, honey," she whispered and kissed the crown of his head, "these people are just a little worried about you. That's how super special you are, look at all these people who are worried, you've got the principal and me and your dad and Aunt Alex and… I'm sorry," Olivia looked up, "who are you?"

"I'm Alliee Koogler, the school psychologist."

Olivia nodded softly, "I see… Alex?"

Alex exhaled, "Olivia, this group is what's called a Student Study Team, they assess students at risk of failure or who are in need of a diagnostic classroom."

"Alex," Elliot chimed in, "you know Olivia and I aren't wired for the beating of the bush… why are we here?"

"Sir," the principal stepped in softly and Olivia was grateful it hadn't been the same principal that had worked with Sam. No, this principal had been extremely patient with their son, had sat with him during class, had let him gather his bearings in his office and had generally looked over him as if he was his son.

Because apparently people can be parents to anyone. Damnit.

"I'm Juan Martinez the principal here, and I've got to tell you… we've been looking after Isaac for sometime now and his behavior does concern me."

"What behavior, exactly?" Elliot asked more for clarification than fight.

Mrs. Koogler interrupted gently, "I think you have an amazing little boy," she smiled softly and instantly put Olivia at ease. "I know that with these types of meetings it feels like it's all of us against you, but really, we want what's best for this little guy," she smiled and touched Isaac softly on the arm. "He's amazing and he's smart, we've just got to figure out what is causing him to struggle so much."

"I told you," Isaac interjected weakly, "it's small… so I don't want to do it, then I get busted and go to time out and it's super small there."

Alex looked curiously at Olivia's hands, "Olivia… what are those?" she asked.

"Proof," Elliot interjected and grabbed the cards from Olivia, "that our son isn't this disturbed kid that you want to make him out to be. He can learn and he does great at home," Elliot said in a rush and gave Isaac his flash cards, "Show'em Rookie."

Isaac grinned up at his father, "Show'em my letters?"

"Shoe'em you can say them, Isaac. Show them that you work at home," Elliot encouraged.

"Can you show them?" Olivia whispered and ran her hand through his hair. "For me and Dad?"

Isaac leaned forward and took one of the cards, unconcerned that they were out of order, "G," he grinned and held up the large card, "Guh, goose," he moved to the next, "S, ssss, seal and D, duh, dog."

"Wow," the principal grinned and reached over, shuffling through the cards as Alex smiled at Isaac, "And this one?" the principal asked holding up the card, "Do you know it?"

"That's O, o, Ostrich but it can sound different for my mom's name, Olivia. That's what my dad tells me and his name goes like this," he said and searched for the proper card, he held it up, "See? E, e, Elephant or E, e, Elliot, 'cause that's my dad's name, and my sister, is," he scrambled for the cards again, "H, huh huh, Hannah and she gets lots of time outs and both my brothers are, "S, ssss seal, but I already said that one, but it's Solomon and Samuel and Aunt Alex, is A aaaa apple," he giggled, "this is fun."

Olivia wrapped her arms around him and smiled, closing her eyes and whispering, "I'm proud of you, son."

He laughed, "I told'ya I can do it, 'cause my mommy makes my cards right, see?" he asked and held up the care to the school shrink, "thses are my cards and they more better than the cards here. I can't read the cards here. They suck."

The shrink, suddenly interested in what Isaac was saying leaned into him, "Isaac, would you mind grabbing me the flash cards you have at school?"

He craned his neck to look at his mom and dad, "I can go to my desk?"

"Sure," Olivia smiled and let him slide from her lap. He moved quickly to rear row and scrounged around inside the small desk, eventually opening his pencil box and bringing with him a metal ring with small cards dangling from it.

"Ta da," Isaac grinned and placed them on the table before crawling up on Elliot's lap, "here they are, daddy."

Elliot smiled and wrapped his arms around his son, "I'm confused… why do you know mom's and not the school's?"

Isaac furrowed his brow and pointed to his cards, "These are more bigger and those are small," he said, "That's what I tell you."

Alex reached over grabbed the metal ring, "Isaac can you read these for me?"

Isaac bunched up his nose and let his eyes dart everywhere but where the letters were, "A, aaa, apple."

"Isaac," Alex said softly, "Look at the card, honey, what is it?"

"Mmm, Q, qu, queen?"

"Honey," she said softly, "They're animals… what is it?"

Isaac's frustration grew immediately and he propped his head up on his palm in thought, "Uh, R, rrrr. rabbit?"

Alex reached over and grabbed a card Olivia had made for him and held it up, "What's this?"

"B, buh, bear."

"Very, good," Alex smiled softly then went back to the smaller card that was the exact same letter, "what is this one?"

Isaac groaned, "Dad, can we go home?"

"Do your work, son."

"But dad,"

"That's one," Olivia whispered and touched his leg softly.

"What is it Isaac?" The principal urged him with a smile, "I know that you know."

Isaac furrowed his brow and concentrated on the letter, "P… puh… polar bear?"

"Try again," Olivia whispered.

"Mom!" Isaac snapped and pushed all of the cards away from him, sending some floating to the ground, "I'm done with this," he groaned and placed his forehead on the table, a small thud followed by an, "ouch."

"That's a two," Elliot told him and helped him sit up, "Focus on the letter buddy, it's the same thing-"

"No it's not the same thing!" Isaac growled and raised up one card, "this is more bigger and that one is stupid small!" he yelled and slapped his hand on the table, "I'm done with this!"

"That's three," Olivia said softly and Elliot sat him on his feet.

"Go to the time out, where ever it is," Elliot commanded, "Quickly and quietly."

"Dad! No! Please!" Isaac pleaded and when Elliot ignored him he went straight to his mother, "Mom!" he pleaded and held tightly to her, "Mom, please! No time out! It's super small and I hate it."

She stood up slowly and looked around the room, finding the small time out area with the blue screen to separate them from the class during the school day. She took him wordlessly by the hand and led him to the small chair.

"No!" he began to fight with her and it startled her that he was acting like a man being led to an executioners table, "No!" he pleaded and cried, "Please! I love you, Mom!"

She pulled him up by his arm when he tried to drop in a full blown tantrum, she pulled him all the way up and into her other arm and carried him to the chair, "Three minutes, bud," she panted and added, "sit the way your supposed to."

Incredibly pissed off, Isaac grabbed the side of his chair and faced it to the corner, slamming it down on the floor and growling before he kicked the wall. She surveyed the foot prints and knew they were his Addida prints all over the wall from countless times before. She pulled the blue screen around him and hoped it did what it was supposed to do. Bring calm.

No such luck.

As soon as she'd taken her seat at the table, Elliot had jumped up when Isaac screamed frantically for him and began to kick and scream. She watched in horror and confusion and Elliot made his way across the room. Isaac had stood up, screeched and panicked and collided with the soft screen sending him tumbling to the floor and Elliot quickly kneeling at his side, "Son?"

"Small!" Isaac screeched and reached up for his father, "Help me, Daddy! Take me away! You save me?" he hiccupped and Olivia kneeled gently next to both of them.

"Hey, Rookie," she whispered and rubbed his back, "I'm sorry."

"Small," he muttered into his father's chest and cried, "I want to go see, Sammy."

"Me too," Olivia whispered and leaned her head against Isaac's.

The principal nudged Alex and smiled softly, "I'm curious… when was his last eye exam?"

Alex moved through the file quickly and ran her finger along a set of dates, "When he was enrolled. The nurse did a class by class screening."

The principal nodded and furrowed his brow, "Do me a favor? Call down to the office and have them page the nurse?"

Alex nodded and did as her boss request, finding it much more easy to work for him than the battle axe from before. In a few moments Elliot stood with his son in his arms, his legs wrapped around Elliot's waist, his arms tight around his neck as Olivia sat down and faced the group of adults who already thought her son was nuts and now had more proof to their theory.

"Excuse me?" An older woman peered into the room, "Was I wanted?"

The principal stood, "Yes, Melissa, these are the Stablers, Isaac's parents."

She grinned and immediately stepped in, "Ah, we're finally able to meet. I was concerned when you never responded to my notices I sent home."

Everyone's eyes stared at Olivia.

"Excuse me?"

"Isaac Stabler, correct?"

"Yes," Olivia shook her head.

"I've sent home two notices that he failed his vision test and is in desperate need of glasses."

Olivia blinked and looked back at her son. The sudden realization of, 'it's small' coming to light. "I never," she shook her head, "We never got anything."

The nurse furrowed her brow and was about to say something, when Alex looked back at Isaac's file, "The notice you gave me says he passed."

"What?" the nurse tilted her head and asked to see the file, "No, no this is not right. I specifically remembered that this little boy had a very hard time with the test… will you excuse me? I'd like to see the master file."

"Okay," Elliot nodded and looked down at Isaac, "you causing' all this drama 'cause you can't see your letters?" he teased more out of relief than anything else.

"Well," The shrink exhaled, "there is still another matter of a diagnostic clas-"

"My son is not emotionally disturbed," Olivia cut her off.

"Mrs. Stabler."

"He's not," she reiterated.

"Then… can you explain the outbursts?" The shrink prodded.

Olivia looked pleadingly at Elliot, "Our son, is not emotionally disturbed," Elliot echoed his wife, "I think," he said as he rubbed his son's back, "Isaac has some things gong on, and you know… for all we know all of this could be that he's frustrated he can't see."

"I'm inclined to think so," the principal nodded and all Alex could do was smile apologetically at Olivia.

"I'm sorry I didn't catch it, Olivia," she said softly.

"Don't be," Olivia smiled, "If this is what the problem is, then it's an easy fix. Come on, you've got a huge class, others to worry about as well."

Alex exhaled softly and the principal leaned forward, "I'll tell you, what. If this is the problem, get the little guy some glasses and we'll take it from there. We'll meet again if we have to. Sound fair?"

Sound fair?

That's about the only thing that has sounded fair in a long, long while. "Yes," she nodded and looked up at Elliot who simply waggled his brows, relived that his son would be spared, at least for now, a label that would follow him for life.

"Excuse me again," the nurse peeked back into the room. "I have found the cause of our problems with our young man, here," she smiled and held up a sheet. "When the school transferred everything over to the new computer system, the input was done by hand. It looks like another child's information was entered on Isaac's screen. The student I.D numbers are different only by the last digit… I'm very sorry. This is a referral for a vision specialist to help the little guy out."

Olivia took the white piece of paper in her hand and smiled, "Thank you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sam!" Olivia called from the kitchen, "Crystal is on th-"

"I'm not talking to her!" he called back.

"You know what?" Olivia muted the phone and walked into the living room, "I'm tired of being your go between, mister. If you're gonna stop talking to her at least have the nerve to tell her." Olivia scolded and handed him the phone surprised when he took it and simply pushed the off button.

"Samuel Elliot Wilson Stabler."

He cringed. He'd just been four-named.

"That is not the way we raised you."

"Did you just hang up on Crystal?" Elliot asked as he walked into the living room with Hannah on his shoulders. Her smile lighting up the room.

"Yeah," he replied weakly, "I don't want to talk to her."

"Well you don't treat her like that!" Elliot scolded him and lowered Hannah to the floor.

"Ah, daddy, up pweaze!" she said and raised her hands back up to him.

"Go find, Solo," Elliot smiled and swatted her playfully on the bum, "he's probably hiding with Horace."

"I get a kitty, daddy?"

Elliot smirked, "No so long as there are toilets."

She jetted out her bottom lip and he knew that the only thing she comprehended was 'no'. "Sam," Elliot sat on the couch and pulled Olivia down beside him.

"Where's Isaac?" Sam asked, hoping to change the subject.

"He's taking a nap," Olivia told him softly, "he had a long day."

"School?"

"Yeah," Olivia nodded, "But, this is about you so, step up to the plate."

Sam exhaled and leaned back on the couch. "I don't want to talk about Crystal."

"Not an option," Elliot said, "she's been calling and you've been a complete jerk."

He leaned back into the couch and groaned, "Dad, please!"

"No, don't you Dad, please, me. You're hurting her and you're not even saying why, and that is just ridiculous."

"You hurt mom!" Sam snapped back.

"Samuel," Olivia cautioned, "that's enough."

Sam drew in his bottom lip, "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean that."

Elliot clenched his jaw and felt Olivia's hand over his shoulders, rubbing him soothingly, "It's okay," she whispered in his ear, "he doesn't mean it."

"Sam," Elliot groaned out, "you've got two options… one: you talk about whatever happened between you and Crystal or two: I will take everything out of your room, except for your bed and comforter, do you understand?"

"Mom?"

"Do you understand?" Elliot pressed a little firmer, "I'm here for you. I want to talk with you and your mother wants to talk with you but you keep it bottle up and your hurting mom and your hurting me and have you even stopped to think what your doing to Crystal?"

"Dad-"

Elliot mumbled a 'hold on' and answered the phone, "Yes… uh huh… we'll we're talking right now… uh huh," Elliot's eyes bulged out of his head and he looked at Sam who was oblivious to his gaze. He looked at Olivia and grinned before offering another, "uh huh, fifteen is good. Okay."

"Elliot?" Olivia asked with a smirk, "who was that?"

"Oh," Elliot leaned back into the sofa and smiled in victory, "that was Crystal's mother, Sam."

Sam groaned, "Not good."

"Kissed her, huh?" Elliot teased and Olivia's head snapped to turn to her son, her mouth open in shock.

"Dad!" Sam groaned, "this isn't funny! This is very serious!"

"I'll say," Olivia grinned, "how come you didn't say anything?"

"Mom!" Sam hissed and hiccupped and suddenly gave way to tears that neither Olivia or Elliot understood.

Olivia moved to her feet and closed the gap between her and her son, caressing his face and kissing the crown of his head, "Talk to your father, baby, he'll make this better."

"Mom," he sniffled, "It's so bad. I don't want anyone to know."

She kneeled, "Your father is an amazing person and there isn't a thing that will make him not like you or that will make him think bad things about you… I'm assuming this is gonna be one of those manly conversations and you don't want your mom hanging around, huh?"

He sniffled, "No, but I love you."

She grinned, kissed his cheek, "Then talk to your father, let him make it better, huh?" she whispered and left before he could say otherwise.

Sam remained on his couch, absently picking at the thread he'd felt along the seem of the cushion, "I don't want to talk about this."

"Sam," Elliot said softly and sat directly in front of him on the coffee table, "son… what happened? Crystal's mom said that Crystal won't eat or talk to them and that when you won't talk to her she cries… what's going on?"

Sam sniffled and fidgeted on the couch, "I said I don't want-"

"Do you like your room, Sam?" Elliot asked softly, "because if you do, you should talk. Your mother and I make it so you can talk to us about anything and it really sucks that I have to force you to do this but I can see it's bothering you and I know it's killing Crystal… this isn't right."

"Dad!" Sam hissed, "What do you want me to say? I kissed her okay!"

Elliot tilted his head and smiled, "Okay, I get that, but you know, I remember that day… you ran out of that house crying and all bloodied up. Did you kiss her and she not want to be kissed? Did she deck you?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "No," he whispered and shook his head, "No. She didn't hit me. I uh… ran… into the door."

"Okay," Elliot nodded, "Why? You know their house as well as ours, why'd you miss a door?"

Sam wiped his cheek on his shirt, "I was… running."

"Okay," Elliot exhaled, "from what?"

"Nothing-"

"Sam," Elliot whispered, "Son, something had you spooked enough that you ran, and missed a door… what was it? Did she push you away?"

"No," Sam blushed.

"Did she… want to do more?" Elliot asked and hoped that was as absurd as it sounded.

"No!" Sam covered his face in humiliation, "Dad, please."

"Talk to me, Sam… what is happening?"

Sam lowered his hands and began to cry, "I wanted to touch her dad. I did. I wanted to touch her… like I never thought of before, and… she smelled different, and her face felt so beautiful and," he shook his head and swallowed, "and I… told her I wanted to kiss her."

Elliot smiled, "So… she let you?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

"Did it scare you?"

"No, not the first one."

Elliot's brows shot up, "The first one? There was more?"

Sam groaned, "I guess, so… I don't know. This is stupid. I'm tired."

"I'll be in your room to clean in our in a few minutes," Elliot said matter of fact.

Sam, exasperated and cornered kicked the sofa with the back of his heel and buried his fist into the sofa, "Stupid!"

"What happened, Sam?" Elliot pressed, "Did you… I mean… I know you wouldn't… but, did you try something more than what she wanted?"

Mortified with the question, Samuel's face turned angry, "I wouldn't do that!"

"Okay," Elliot said softly and rest his hands on his knees, "son, I'm playing 21 questions here, I just need you to tell me what happened so I can help you fix it."

Sam swallowed hard and wiped his face before running his hand through his hair forward and back, "You'll think I'm so bad, Dad."

"No," Elliot told him firmly, "No. Never."

Sam hiccupped and sniffled, "We were in the restroom 'cause she wanted help with her bandage, you know?"

"Okay."

"She's really pretty, dad," he said softly.

Elliot smiled, "She is, isn't she?"

"Yeah… well… she felt and smelled different than she ever has so I asked if I could kiss her."

"Always better to ask," Elliot smiled, "go on."

"Uh… I… uh, put my lips… like… over hers."

"Okay… was she okay with that?"

"She wasn't mad," Sam said softly, "but… she, - ah dad- this is embarrassing!"

"Sam," Elliot said softly, "the first time I kissed your mother, I thought I was gonna pass out and it wasn't because of how I felt about her. It was because I was so nervous and I couldn't remember what my breath smelled like or if I'd put on deodorant. All I knew was I wanted to kiss her and she's got a mean right hook," Elliot chuckled, "I kissed her Sam, and I knew right then that I loved your mom. It's nothing to be embarrassed for son."

Sam smacked his lips, "She asked me… to open my mouth. Is that normal?"

Elliot smiled, "Yeah, it's normal."

"She… uh, stuck her tongue in my mouth. That normal, too?"

"Perfectly," Elliot nodded, "We're you comfortable?"

"Uh… I dunno."

"Did you like kissing her?" Elliot prodded, "Or were you uncomfortable with it?"

Sam exhaled and licked his lips, "I… I liked it. She's very pretty."

Elliot smiled, "So… I don't see what the problem is. Does she think you're a bad kisser? Did you eat onions? Liver? What's the deal?"

Sam squirmed and pulled his legs up to his chest, "Dad," he furrowed his brow, "while I kissed her… uh… my penis… uh… it-"

Elliot closed his eyes in compassion and knew exactly what had happened to his son, "You got an erection?" he asked softly.

Sam tilted his head, "What's that?"

"Uh…" Elliot twitched his lips, "Hmm, uh… it's when your penis fills with blood and it gets hard. Do you remember when you used to wake up very uncomfortable?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I remember."

"That's what they're called," Elliot informed him gently. "Did it scare her? Did she push you away after that?"

"No," Sam shook his head, "But… it scared me, dad… it, like my body, sort of… wanted to be against hers…" he said and began to mumble.

"Okay," Elliot shook his head, "that can happen, um… did you-"

"My pants… dad," Sam shrunk further into the couch, "dad they felt wet. Not like when I wake up like that. I've never… is something wrong?"

"No," Elliot assured him, "Nothing is wrong. It was a natural reaction, your body is going through puberty Sam, this is gonna happen just like the wake-up calls used to."

Sam furrowed his brows in thought, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… did it ever happen… to you?"

Elliot chuckled, "Way to put your old man on the spot huh?" He exhaled, "Yeah, son. It happens."

"Even now?"

"Even now."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why does it happen? Why do our bodies do that?"

Elliot's face went pale, "Uh… we'll when two people love each other… uh… they have sex, and during sex… the guy's body… uh… does that."

Sam's mouth fell slack, his brows high, "He wets on her?"

"No. Inside of her- oh, that's bad," Elliot muttered.

"Inside!" Sam shrieked and covered his face, "are you serious!"

"Sam, it's natural," Elliot assured him. "You're young though, and you're not gonna have very much control over your body, so this is to be expected-"

"Wait," Sam shook his head, "how does he get inside of her?"

And if he could fall to his death by falling off a coffee table he would. "Sam-"

"You wet inside of mom?" Sam asked, his face registering the horrible realization.

"Oh boy," Elliot covered his mouth with his hands.

"Your body does this?" Sam asked, "And then you wet inside of mom's body? What? How?"

"Sam," Olivia broke in seeing Elliot's discomfort and Sam's growing outrage, "Honey. It's normal and it's part of life especially if you're married."

Poor kid. He shook his head, "So," he was so flustered, "I was supposed… to be inside of her when I kissed her?"

"NO!" Both Elliot and Olivia answered at once.

Sam jumped at the sudden influx in their voice and yelled, "I don't understand you!"

"Okay," Olivia whispered, "its okay, to be confused, sex is pretty confusing stuff."

"Mom," Sam shook his head and scratched his brow, "did I hurt her?"

"Who?" Olivia asked in confusion and turned to Elliot who mouthed Crystal's name. She hadn't been privy to the whole conversation, just the part where she saw Elliot almost faint.

"Crystal," Sam whispered. "These are things, like Grandpa Wilson did isn't' it? We have these talks and it sounds more and more like him all the time."

"No, son," Elliot chimed in, "it's not Grandpa Wilson, you're not him. What happened with you and Crystal was normal for kids your age your age. It's a new sensation, kissing. Your body responded, that's all."

"What am I supposed to do with it!" Sam chirped.

Olivia bit her lip and Elliot stifled a laugh, "Uh… well, the next time it happens-"

"Next time!"

"The next time is happens, "Elliot said softly, "just remove yourself form whatever your body is responding to."

Sam shook his head, "But, if I'm trying to kiss her, and my body does this, what am I supposed to do? What do I do with it? Where do I put it?"

Olivia covered her face this time and fought so hard not to kill over in laughter both at the innocence of her son and the stunned expression on Elliot's face, "I think your father can answer that," she choked out.

Elliot looked at her in mortification and then cleared his throat, "Um… we'll boys… uh have penises and girls, uh have… uh-"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Vagina's Sam. When you're married and you have sex, the boy places his penis inside of the girls vagina."

Sam groaned, "No, more. Please. My stomach hurts."

"Sam," Olivia said softly, "Sex is… a pretty amazing thing. It's not something you just do with anyone-"

"It's disgusting is what it is," he told her. "Ugghh, its one thing to put your tongue in someone, but… holy cow! There's a line, isn't there, dad?"

_Not when it comes to your mom. _

"Yeah, son… but when you're older you'll think differently," he smiled and then the door bell rang.

"Aunt Casey?" Sam asked.

"No… Crystal," Elliot told him gently. "You're gonna make it right with her or at least tell her you don't want to be friends, you don't just leave someone to wonder."

"Mom?"

"I'm with your father. Stop being a jerk."

He groaned and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well, I'm not doing it in here."

"Fine," Elliot shrugged, "That's why there's a great big deck outside, beat feet. She'll be out there soon."

"Ah," Sam stood and stalked away, "Stupid!"

"So, Elliot," Olivia teased as they made their way to the door, "Where does it go? I forgot?"

He grinned at her, "Ask me again tonight and I'll show you."

She laughed and punched him playfully in the arm before they answered the door. "Hi Crystal," Olivia smiled softly and looked up at Crystal's father, "Hey, Zeph, good to see you again."

"Good to see you all, too… Crystal's mom isn't feeling well, so I brought her."

"That's fine," Elliot grinned and shook his hand as they made their way into their home, "Crystal, you're looking cuter by the hour honey," Elliot told her and pointed to the sliding door, "The boy you want to kill is outside on that deck."

Crystal smiled softly and made her way slowly to the door a small chess game in her hand. "She wouldn't tell us what happened until last night when we threatened to make her switch schools," Zeph confessed. "We'd never do it, but… she doesn't eat, won't come out of her room. And the attitude, oh man! It tests your patience."

"Tell us about it," Olivia laughed, "Sam hasn't been a bed of roses either."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hi, ass hole," Crystal snapped as soon as she closed the sliding glass door and saw Sam sitting at the small table.

He winced at the remark and shook his head, "Your language rubs off on me. My parents are all over me."

"Sounds like you need a back bone," she shrugged and tossed the small boxed game onto the table, "You were never meant to be a follower anyway."

He leaned back in the chair and picked at the table top, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" she shook her head and exhaled, "I was gonna come over here and tell you what a prick you are and that I never want to see you again."

"Were?"

"Were." she shook her head and exhaled, "Now… now I just want my friend back, Samuel. That's all."

He furrowed his brow, "Friend?"

"Yes, Friend… you. I mean, if you want to be friends," she said and gently took the lid off of the chess set, "I mean, I know that me killing you in chess all the time has to make for a sore ego, but-"

"I let you win and you know it," Sam said with a small smile, "You can't beat me. You never will."

"Well," she exhaled as she set up her pieces, "I guess the only way we'll know that is if you're still willing to be friends. I'm not sure why you ran out, Samuel… I… I… I liked it."

Sam licked his lips and reached for the chess pieces he knew she'd set out of him. He began to line them up, using his fingers for spacing and hoping she still liked him enough to fix his mistakes. "I… I… uh, I-"

"Did you not like it?" she asked softly and dreaded his response.

He blushed, "Uh, yeah. I… I liked it. Your lips are soft."

She grinned, blushed and made the first move on the board, "So… what now?"

Sam exhaled and was so confused, if he had to put his penis inside of her, then… well, didn't Grandpa Wilson put his penis inside of him?

_That really hurt me. I don't want to hurt her. And if I kiss her, it might happen. Dad said, it happens and then I'm supposed to be inside of her before my body wets. Ah, I can't do that to her, I don't want to hear Crystal scream for help. Not like I did. _

"I think we should… play chess," he whispered unconvincingly.

"Chess?" she looked at the board and then at Sam. "You… don't want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?"

_Yeah! Heck yeah, I do! You're so pretty, who wouldn't want to be your boy friend? I'd do anything for you. I'd make you happy just like my mom and dad make each other happy. I'd love you. I would. I do. _

"No," he shrugged. "Not really," he moved and called his position.

She looked down at the board and slowly tipped her king until it fell, "I'm in check mate."

"What?" he scrunched his face, "No you weren't, you said knight to G5 and then I went here-"

She covered his hand with hers, "I'm in checkmate. You win… we should play chess."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Dad!" Sam hollered from outside, "Dad! Come here please!"

"Yeah? You beckoned sire?" Elliot teased, "Come on, Sam… you've been figuring out that board for an hour now, what's the deal?"

"Tell me the pieces," Sam asked him. "Please? I can't remember the moves and I was letting her win. She shouldn't have been in checkmate."

Elliot stared down at the board and shrugged, "She wasn't," the only thing she had out was her knight and bishop, in fact," Elliot studied the board, "If you weren't careful she would have nabbed you in two moves."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why were you late to Isaac's meeting?" Elliot whispered as Olivia lay under their covers in his arms.

"I told you," she yawned "I got tied up… I'm taking Isaac to the eye doctor, tomorrow."

"The picture is missing from the foyer," he said softly. "Where did you really go?" he asked without accusation or anger.

She buried her face in his neck, kissed him softly, "Please don't be upset with me."

"Just tell me," he asked and looked down at her, "Just tell me that you met with that Minister."

She pulled back and looked at him, "How did you know?"

"Because," he propped his head upon his palm, "I always know when you've come to a decision… you walk lighter, you move differently when you've settled something," he said. "You walked into the meeting, lighter than I've seen you in the past week… you've decided. What did you decide?" he asked.

She pulled out of his embrace and slowly sat up, "You haven't' said too much about it."

"It's not my place."

"You're my husband," she countered, "it's as much your place as it is mine."

He sat up and looked at her, "What did you decide, Olivia?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I think… I think… that… Drake, deserves a good home."

"That's a given," Elliot agreed. "The question is… _where_, Olivia?"

She looked up at him and could not for the life of her read him, "Elliot… we both want another baby-" the flare of his nostrils stopped her immediately. She pulled all the way back, the invisible divider firmly planted between them.

"You want him?" Elliot furrowed his brow, "You want the son of the man who raped you?"

She winced, "Don't say it like that."

"How else am I supposed to say it?" he shook his head, "Olivia, he _raped_ you-"

"Don't you think I know that!" she snapped, "I'm very well aware of what he did to me! I see it every day I look in the damn mirror so please, don't feel you have to remind me!"

He ran his hand over his face, "There are a lot of good homes he can go to, Olivia."

"Just like Sam went too, huh?" She pressed her lips together. "I can't… trust someone else with him. They won't know the history, they won't know what red flags to look for, they-"

"He's not our responsibility!" Elliot hollered and she visibly shrieked back at the unexpected outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell," he told her softly, "But, Olivia… he's not ours."

"Dustin wasn't ours and we paid to bury him."

"That's not fair," He pointed at her.

"Why?" she shook her head, "Why isn't it fair?"

"Because!"

"That's not good enough!" she hissed.

Elliot stood to his feet and barked at her, "I thought he was mine! I thought he was Isaac and so he was mine! For thirteen months he was mine!" he shouted so forcefully, she heard the crack of his knuckles in the fist he made. Watched the chords buldge in his neck. His face redden.

She was taken off guard and had nothing to yell back at him, "Elliot… he's just a boy."

"He's his!" Elliot hissed through a clenched jaw.

"Elliot," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his waist as he turned his back to her, "Elliot," she kissed him through his shirt and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades, "He's his, yes. But, what does that really mean? He's still just a boy, who deserves a shot."

Elliot braced himself against the wall with his arms, "How can you want him, Olivia?"

"I don't know," she whispered, "I don't. I'm not even completely sure I do, but right now- right this second, he deserves parents who care about him, not a foster parent or people Oliver met while he was in prison."

"I can't raise him," Elliot shook his head, "I can't."

"Why?" she whispered and gently let her hand skim under his shirt, "Why? It's okay to tell me,"

Elliot covered her hand with his, "He… Olivia… his father raped you. What if he grows up and looks like him? I can't… I can't deal with that."

"Turn around," she whispered and pushed on one hip, pulling on the other before she finally looked at him. "His father raped my mother… I'm his twin, Elliot… do you see only disgust when you look at me?"

He furrowed his brows, "What? No. Not even a little."

"Then?"

"It's different," he protested.

"How? Why?"

"Because… you're different."

"He can be different. Just like I'm different. He's a clean slate right now, Elliot and if we get to him first, he'll make it. With our love he'll make it."

"You can love him?" he asked in shock.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I can try, though."

"You can't stand the fact that Solomon and Hannah are twins."

Sucker punch.

"Elliot," she furrowed her brows, "that was a cheap shot and you know it."

"You can't stand it, can you? You hate that they share the same room, you hate that they sometimes fall asleep together," his voice rose, " You hate a piece of Solomon don't you-"

The sting in her hand affected her more than seeing Elliot's face snap to the side, "Don't. You. Dare." she seethed. "I love that little boy with everything I have in me, and yes, I get nervous that they're twins and yeah, I don't call them twins because it scares me. And hell, while we're at it, yeah, I check on them all night long because Solomon is a boy and Hannah is a girl and it sure does remind me of Oliver and me, but that doesn't mean I don't love that little boy."

He held his hand to the burn of his skin, "I'm sorry. I… that was out of line." 

"You have no idea," she ground out and clenched her jaw. "You told me to make a choice and you'd stick by me. You never once offered me your opinion or what you thought about it, I tried to figure it out. I tried to come up with a solution. We want a baby, Elliot and one is practically being forced on us… if we take him, yeah… Oliver gets the last word and he wins, but… if we make him ours, if he's truly ours just like Sam is, just like Isaac and The Monsters… then we have all the control. He has nothing and we win."

Elliot scrubbed his hands over his face and turned his back to her, "I… I don't… Olivia, you're asking me to raise the son of the man that raped you," he looked back at her, his tears flowing down his cheeks, adding more warmth to his already stinging flesh, "He raped you. He raped my wife."

She nodded softly as she began to cry, "I know," she whispered. "I know what he did."

He bowed his head, "Then how can you want this? We can't raise a rapist's child-"

"You raised me," Sam's voice sliced through them and they instantly turned to the door.

"Sam," Olivia whispered and wiped her face, "honey, you're supposed to be asleep."

He smiled softly, "Kind of hard to sleep with all the yelling… I got The Monsters in my bed, scared."

Dejected and worn out both adults sat at the edge of the bed, their son standing in front of them. "You raised me, didn't you dad?"

"What?" Elliot wiped his face, "what are you talking about?"

"A long time ago mom and you told me about rape, how it hurts people. I asked you if that's what my dad and grandpa did, and you said yes. If they raped me… they're a rapist, right?" he asked and even though he tried to stand as stoically as possible, even though he tried to keep his voice level, the tear falling from his cheek told his parents he was anything but okay.

"I'm sorry, for the yelling," Elliot whispered.

"I'm sorry," Olivia echoed.

"That's not what I asked you," Sam sniffled and stepped closer to his father. "You raised me, didn't you? As your boy?"

Elliot snatched him up quickly and held him close, "You are my boy." He sobbed, "My boy, only mine. No one else's."

"Then?" Sam whispered and held his father as his tears ran down the length of Sam's neck, "Why can't you love this boy?"

Elliot pulled Sam back to look at him, "I don't think I'm that I'm that strong of a man."

Sam leaned forward and whispered into his father's ear, "You're the strongest man I know."


	11. As The Pendulum Swings

Silver Lining

Chapter 11 As The Pendulum Swings

Her eyes shot open before the alarm could go off. She'd been bound and determined to wake up before Elliot did. Not because their mornings were competition, but because she wanted to get back to their normal routine of her waking in the morning and spending time with the kids individually, of fights for the restroom. She wanted to cook a meal for her husband and tie his tie before he went to meetings for the gyms and she wanted to make sure he had his duffel packed.

She wanted him to rest.

He deserved that, to rest after a night where he tossed and turn, his body cramped up on him and his pain killers did nothing for him. His mind raced even as he slept, she knew because she'd watched him sleep for hours. She wondered if she was asking too much from him.

To raise the son of the man who raped her.

To bring Drake into their home, to feed him when he cries, to change him, to rock him to sleep, bathe him.

To love him.

She sat on the edge of the bed and rolled her head back, letting a deep breath out. _Maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe I just want and I'm not taking into consideration what it will do to Elliot._ _How could I expect that he could do this? That he could hold the son of a man who has turned our lives upside down. Can I? Could I look at this little boy and love him like he's ours? Would he ever really be ours? Do we raise him as nephew or son? Do we raise him at all?_

She stood to her feet, her own lack of sleep making her head spin. She gained her balance and pulled the sheet over Elliot's chest before kissing him tenderly on the cheek and quietly making her way out of the room. Crossing over to a much smaller room and smiling at her daughter who, for some reason decided she'd put a shoe on in the middle of the night. A shoe. Not shoes. Olivia grinned and hiked her pajama bottoms higher on the hips least they fall off of her frame.

She leaned over Hannah, her little girl with hair as dark as hers, lips as strawberry as a newborns and that smirk that told Olivia that she was just as mischievous while she dreamed as she was in person. Olivia ran her hand through her daughter's hair and kissed her gently, "Wake up, pumpkin,"

Hannah's lips twitched, her brows furrowed she began to whine as she woke up, her hands instantly balling and rubbing at her eyes, "Mommy?"

"Right here," Olivia whispered and picked her up into her arms. "You're extra grumpy. What's wrong?"

Hannah sniffled and held tight to her mother, "I missded you, mommy."

"I know," Olivia whispered and sat slowly in the rocking chair, "I missed you too, baby."

"How come you no wakded me up for long days?" she sniffled and look into her mother's eyes, her normally happy eyes broken. Her trust in her mother, trust in the mundane things, trust in the fact that her mother woke her up everyday she was in the house, all of that on shaky ground.

Olivia caressed her daughters face and gently started to rock her, "Because… I was selfish, baby… I'm sorry."

"Shellfish?" she hiccupped and held her mother's neck as tight as possible.

"No… greedy, baby. I didn't want to share myself with anyone," she said as her eyes began to water. "I was super sad… and didn't want to do anything… I'm sorry, Hannah. Forgive me?"

Hannah looked up and smirked, "I get a kitty?"

Olivia grinned, "No… Zeus would eat the kitty."

"Then Mosie would eated Zoos?" Hannah asked with a smile.

Olivia let out a loud laugh and before she could control herself she'd already heard, "Mommer?" from the other side of the room. "Mommer? It wakies?"

"Wakies!" Hannah giggled and to Olivia's surprise waved her brother over, "Come on, Solo, Mama no sick no more. Her fixded!"

Solomon grinned and flung his covers back, stretching his body until his pudgy toes hit the floor and that was all the traction he needed to bolt to his mother and climb up into her lap, "Scoot over Nana!" he commanded and Hannah was merciful enough to move just enough that both three-year-olds could rest against their mother's chest, her shoulders designed purely for their comfort as her arms wrapped around them both and she continued to rock them, "I missed you guys, too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Boys! Stop fighting!" Olivia hissed through the bathroom door, "Your father is still sleeping and I can hear you all the way in the office."

"Mommy!" Isaac chirped and cracked opened the door, "Sammy is taking a long time in the water and I stink! I need a bath."

"Sam," Olivia rested her head along the door frame, "Sam, hurry sweetie you've been in there forever, and your brother's right… he stinks."

"He always stinks!" Sam laughed, the shower stream muffling him.

"Regardless," Olivia smiled down at Isaac who was clearly insulted, "hurry up. When you're done you need to help him."

Sam groaned, "Kay."

Olivia smiled, bent low to kiss Isaac on the cheek, "You ready for the eye man today?"

"You gonna buy me new eyes?" Isaac smiled and opened the door completely. Well, he still had on his boxers. That had to be some form of success.

Olivia grinned and squatted, her hands on his waist, "Not new eyes, but maybe some cool glasses to make things bigger for you."

Isaac's eyes went wide with glee, "More bigger so I don't go to time out?"

"Yep… would you like that?"

He nodded emphatically and wrapped his arms around her, "I love you, mommy."

She tickled him softly, "Love you too, get ready. Breakfast is gonna get cold."

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Success might have been a little bit of an overstatement because, as Olivia walked from the hallway after getting ready for the morning she stopped immediately, her hand on her hip. Her focus on her naked five-year-old, leaning against the open refrigerator door just as he's always done.

"Whatch'ya lookin' for naked?" Olivia chuckled softly and made her way to him, "I see the dimples on your butt," she teased.

"Mom!" Isaac chirped and covered his bottom, his fingers splaying over his buttocks, "It's mine!"

"I see your pee pee, too," she teased him again.

He gasped, his mouth falling into an 'O', one of his hands instantly moving from the baby smooth bottom to the juncture of his legs, "Mom! Stop lookin!"

She chuckled and ruffled his hair, kissing the crown of his head, "Then go put some clothes on! You can't be walkin' around in your birthday suit and not expect people to say something! Go get dressed."

He spun around, his hands still firmly in place and ran through the kitchen to the room, "Sammy! I need help!"

"Mommer?" Solomon smiled from the breakfast table, "Mommer, I hungies."

"Me too! Don't forgeted me," Hannah chirped running to her chair and promptly getting herself situated in her booster seat, "Where my daddy?"

Olivia smiled, kissed her on her head and placed juice in front of her, "Resting, he's had a hard week."

"Work long days?" Solomon asked as he promptly tried to steal Hannah's juice.

"Son," Olivia rebuked him softly, "wait for your's, please."

"I take Nana's?"

"I punch you," Hannah told him firmly.

"That's a one for both of you," Olivia said firmly and poured a sippie cup of juice for Solomon, "There ya go. That one is yours."

"But-"

"There are no but's… that one is your's. End of story."

"Ah. Sucks."

"Solomon."

"Potty Mouf," Hannah smirked, "Time out, stupid head."

"You," Olivia arched her brows, "are cruisin', and you," she locked her gaze with Solomon's "Leave your sister alone, mister," she scolded and turned around to gather their breakfast, "And that's a two for both of you for sticking your tongues at each other," she smirked when she heard the groans from the table.

"Ah, Mommer! Nana mean to me."

"No," she shook her head, her pony tail tossing right and left, "he mean to me, Mommy. He takded my stuff!"

Olivia exhaled, tried so hard not to smile, tried so hard to establish herself as the authorative mother trying to establish rule and obedience. The reality of it through, is that she wanted to scoop them up into her arms and laugh and play with them, "Eat your eggs, both of you," she said firmly and placed a small amount on each plate.

"Yuck," Solomon scrunched his nose.

"Yeah, yuck," Hannah shook her head.

"Alright," Olivia exhaled, "the complaining is over with. Time out, Hannah."

"Wha!" Her eyes bulged, "But-"

"You too Solo, move it or loose it," she told them both.

"Uh oh," Sam chuckled as he and Isaac made their way to the table, "Mom is on a tirade, Isaac… best behavior."

"I got clothes on," Isaac grinned up at his mother.

"I see that," she smiled and kissed his cheek, "you smell good too… go sit down, I'll get you some food."

"Hey," Sam wrapped his arm around his mother's waist and hugged her, "what about me? Feedin' me?"

She laughed, "If I can get off the tirade long enough."

He grinned, wrapped his other arm around her, "Just playin' Mom."

"I know… Sleep okay?" she asked softly and held him close to her. He was getting so big. Too fast.

"Yeah… you got up a lot?" he asked softly.

"Little bit. Checked on The Monsters and you and Isaac once… you snore, you know?"

"Do not."

"Oh yeah… loud," she grinned. "You know… if you marry Crystal-"

"Not happening, mom," he whispered and kissed her cheek, quickly changing the subject. "You got up less than normal… are you really tired?"

"No," she whispered and rubbed his back, long morning hugs with her son, a pure delight, "Um… just wanted to stay with your dad last night."

"He okay?" Sam asked pulling away and feeling along the countertop for the two plates he knew his mother would set out for him.

"He needs to sleep, he's been pickin' up my slack."

Sam grinned and took the plates to the table as Isaac climbed into his chair. "Here," Sam muttered and placed the plate in front of his brother, "Monsters under lockdown?"

"Three minutes," Olivia smiled. They've never been able to make it through a breakfast without a time out. They were a duo, though. They burned together.

Olivia piled scrambled eggs onto both plates, "In your mouth, Isaac, not your shirt."

He grinned and quickly dug into his food.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You eatin?" Sam asked through a mouthful of eggs.

"No… uh, your dad and I are gonna go out for breakfast… hey, keep your ears on your brothers and sister? I'm gonna go wake him up."

"Kay," Sam smiled softly and raised his head, "Mom?"

"Yeah?" Olivia stopped and turned to face him, "What's up?"

"Dad really is the strongest man I know… he can do it."

"Do wha?" Isaac mumbled as he drank from his cup.

"Nothin'," Sam said quickly, "Eat your food."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia was surprised to see that Elliot was up. Not dressed for the day, but he was up and sitting on the side of the bed, starring blankly out at the French doors, a cool morning breeze flooding the room, "Hey," she said softly and slowly made her way to him, not sure of herself. Not after last night.

They'd put Sam back to bed last night and they'd returned to their own bed. Held each other, but couldn't come up with a definite decision other than giving Elliot time to process everything. She was fine with that. The reality was, she still needed time to mull it over, too. This wasn't like getting a kitty for Hannah despite owning two kitty-hungry dogs. No, this was so much more complicated. How would they explain Drake to the kids? Sure, Sam already knows, but what of the others?

If they raised Drake as their nephew, would that provide the children with an opportunity to ask question when they got older? Will Drake one day ask them what happen to his parents? How would they explain that? She knows the pain of having a father as a rapist. Sam knows that same pain. How could she possibly pass that to another person?

If they raised him as son, could Elliot actually do it? Could _she_? Could she pay Drake the same attention she does to Solomon? Could she find an activity built solely for the two of them like she has done with Sam? Could she sink into a cool tub of water with him over her breast like she had done when Hannah had the chickenpox? If something had happened to Drake, would she long for him like she had Isaac?

Elliot looked up at her, "Hey," he said weakly and hung his head, "how are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Stiff… tired," he exhaled and looked up at the bare wall, "I'm thinking of re-doing the prints and hanging them. The room looks naked without them. I liked them."

Olivia exhaled, made her way into the room and grabbed a shirt from the closet, his under clothes from the dresser, "I really liked them. I liked the one of the room," she said softly and turned to face him. "Can… I help you, this morning?" she asked motioning to the clothes in her arms.

"Could you love him?" Elliot asked bluntly.

She licked her lips and slowly made her way to him. The clothes offering a pretend buffer for both of them. "I think… I think, we owe it to our children to show them what strong is."

He shook his head slowly and watched her carefully, "Not what I asked. I asked if you could love him. _Love Drake_. Could you?"

She exhaled, slowly kneeled and climbed onto the bed, positioning herself behind him and casting the clothes to the side, "I don't know," she answered softly and gently put her hands on his shoulders. Stiff was an understatement. "Um… the kids are eating. I can… give you a massage, work some of the stiffness out of you."

"Nephew or son?" Elliot asked softly. "I'm not saying I've made a decision, but… if we did. Nephew or son?"

She kneaded the flesh of his shoulders gently, "I don't know," she confessed and cupped his shoulders, digging soothing fingertips into his flesh.

"What does his name mean?" he whispered. Where was his voice? He'd only been up a few minutes and she missed his voice. Missed the confidence in it.

"I don't know," she shook her head. She didn't know anything about this. Nothing.

He took a deep breath and shifted on the bed, his hip and back popping, he groaned and winced at the pain, "I'm out of meds."

She kissed his neck softly, "I'm going to the pharmacy today… lye back."

"We'll be late, we need to get going."

"We won't be late," she assured him. "Isaac is going to the doctor after you and I go to eat breakfast. We're dropping off Sam… they're eating. We have time to work the pain out of your body. If we don't, you know you have a hard time with your clients… come on," she encouraged him and gently helped him position himself on his back.

"It's my hip and knee… killing me."

She nodded softly and carefully began at his ankles, "How about we just hit everything… that way we don't miss anything?"

He nodded and she could tell he was still concentrating, still weighing the consequences of bringing Drake into their home. Still wondering if they could actually do it. Her hands caressed his body softly and his moan let her know that in spite of the major dilemma they were facing, he still wanted her next to him.

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

And figured there was only one sure fire way to relieve him of pressure and stress. She massaged the calf of the leg that had been in a fixator to save his knee. She massaged him gently and made her way to the back of his knee, letting her fingers tenderly apply pressure as her lips kissed his patella and her tongue trailed along his inner thigh.

"What are you doing?" he asked with a smirk and suddenly slammed his eyes shut when he felt her hand release him from his boxers, "Oh. Okay," he gasped and exhaled, "So okay."

She smiled and looked up at him, "I was reading about massages that have happy endings… thought maybe I'd put your ending near the beginning."

He swallowed gripped the comforted as he tossed his head back, "Thank someone for literacy."

She chuckled near the V of his thigh and kissed him gently through his boxers before returning her free hand to stoke his soft length. She licked her lips, pressed them gently into his flesh and marveled that something as simple as her lips against him could cause his body to spring to life.

She felt his hand tangle into her hair and as soon as she ran her warm tongue along his flesh. He balled his fist and groaned, she kissed the tip of him and took him slowly into her mouth, teasing him by only taking him an inch at a time until eventually she had to stop or risk gagging and ruining the whole experience for him. She looked up at him as she clasped her thumb and index around his based and moved them in their own rhythm separate from her mouth. He moaned low, one of those fascinating moans that came from his chest and hit her below the belt. He smoothened the mess of her hair that he made and very gently guided her over his body, surprised when she pulled all the way back releasing him from her mouth.

He felt the cool air contrast against his moist body and wanted nothing more than the warmth of her mouth to cover him again. She smiled, kissed the underside of his penis and moved further down, teasing his sac with her tongue and sucking the taut skin there. He arched and hissed, "Liv, I'll come."

"Do it," she whispered against his skin and raised herself up so she knelt between his legs. She grasped him, hand over hand and firmly stroked him continuously upwards, watching as his chest heaved and struggled for air. She chuckled when he covered his face with his hands and arched his neck mumbling and encouraging her abilities. She felt his body tense, the muscles in his legs flex as he reached down and clasped her bicep again.

What is with his sudden fascination with her arms all of a sudden?

She winced at the crushing pain against her bruised arm but continued until the globes of his butt flexed, she pressed his throbbing erection to his abdomen and quickly raised his shirt just in time to watch his release cover the ridges of his abs. She stroked him again, smiled when his body continued to release, she wasn't sure if the noise he was making could be considered a whine, but the fact that she could get his voice to go that high-

Such an ego stroke.

She kissed the tip of him again, smiling when he hissed and finally balled the linen into his hands. He exhaled, panted for breath as she let her tongue and lips clean his abdomen, kiss the flesh there. She lowered his shirt, rested her cheek over his chest and listened to the frantic beat of his heart. After a moment she kissed him through his shirt, covered his body with hers and kissed his mouth, "Better?"

He grinned, "Instant healer."

She pulled back gently, studied his face and softly kissed him again, letting him taste himself on her lips, her tongue. She separated, traced his lips with her fingers as his eyes closed, "I love you," she said softly and gently let her finger trace his cheek, "I'm sorry I hit you."

He smirked, "Ehh, I know the damage you're capable of. I'll take that one as a warning."

She kissed him again, gently, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I was out of line."

She wrapped her hand just under his neck, let her cheek rest back on his chest and listened to his heart beat, amazed that she could do these things to his body, "Please forgive me."

He pulled her tight, kissed the crown of her head, "Done."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you sure they don't think we just dropped them off and left?" Olivia asked as she and Elliot slide effortlessly into a booth of a small diner that, because of the time of day, had a handful of people scattered in various seats. An older man, perhaps in his sixties sitting behind Olivia, facing Elliot.

"Olivia," Elliot laughed, "that's exactly what we did!"

She smiled sheepishly, "I know… I just… don't like that."

He reached out, took her hand in his, "How about you sit next to me, huh? I could use that."

She looked up at him, "Really?"

"Yeah, come on, we can peruse the menu together" he smiled and nodded to the space beside him, "I like you right here anyway."

She moved quickly and slipped in next to him, the table cloth far too big for the small table. She moved it to get closer, "They were asleep?"

He laughed putting his hand on her leg, "Olivia, we dropped off Sam at school. Isaac is playing in the kids' gym and the babies are asleep in the day care at the same gym. Our gym. Which is across the street. Relax."

"I know. I just… I've sort of not really been there for them the last week-"

"They were asleep baby," he smiled softly and she couldn't help but notice that his face still carried the worry and stress of their situation. The fear of the decision. Of the outcome. But in spite of that all he kissed her temple gently, "You know they can't withstand a ride. Knocks them out every time."

"I know," she said softly and smiled at the older man who she now faced. Apparently he needed another refill of his coffee, thus sending the waitress their way. Olivia had ordered an orange juice and water, while Elliot ordered his own coffee.

"I'll be back to take your order in just a sec, okay?" The waitress smiled and happily left to attend to their order.

"Thank you," Elliot said softly as he gently squeezed her thigh.

"For what?" She furrowed her brow and tilted her head to look at him.

He grinned and to her amusement turned bright red, "This morning."

"Ah," she smiled and leaned into him, "enjoy your self?"

He chuckled, raised his hand on her thigh and lightly grazed her core through her jeans, she gasped and he smiled, whispering in her ear, "About as much as you'll enjoy this breakfast."

She swallowed hard, totally oblivious to the fact that the waitress had set their drinks down and was asking for her order. Casually, as if Elliot didn't have something far more engaging in mind, he smiled at the waitress, "She'll have two pancakes with an ungodly amount of syrup," he grinned and pretended to straighten out the table cloth, all the while bringing it lower over her thighs, "I'll have an omelet," he said and handed the waitress the menus that they never use.

"Elliot," she hissed and bowed her head. The sight of his hand so close to her body. The knowledge of what he wanted to do. She was in for it.

"Think you can keep quiet?" he teased and ran his finger gently over the seem of her pants, the vibration hitting her where it definitely counted.

"Elliot," she shook her head and looked up at him slowly, "there's a man old enough to be Sam's grandfather right in front of us."

"Something new," he whispered and deftly ran his finger tips to the buckle of her pants and released the brass button.

"I'm sorry."

Olivia jumped at the sound of the waitress's voice intruding on them. She ran her hand through her hair, licked her lips nervously and struggled to make eye contact, "Yeah-yes-yep, what?" she said quickly.

The waitress furrowed her brow and smiled slowly, "Uh… did you want fruit topping on your pancakes?"

Olivia plastered on a smile, trying to cover the flush that was creeping along her neck as Elliot slowly began to lower her zipper, "F-f-fruit," she shook her head trying to steady herself, "uh… wh-what, I don't. Fruit. I don't understand."

The waitress furrowed her brows deeper and let her eyes move from Elliot who was simply taking a sip from his coffee as if nothing were happening under the table and Olivia who was practically gnawing off her bottom lip. "Uh," the waitress slowly began to leave.

"She'll take cherries," Elliot smiled, his finger running tiny circles along the front of her panties as his other hand casually lowered his cup of coffee.

Olivia nodded and offered a labored, "Yeah. Cherries."

The waitress nodded in suspicion and walked away shaking her head.

"Elliot," she wiggled under him and hissed, "Y-you know I can't keep quiet."

Elliot took another sip with his visible hand, "Yep," he smirked as he placed the coffee mug back down and slowly began to tug down the hem of her panties with his index finger.

Her mouth suddenly went dry and she attempted to reach for her water, stopping when she felt his fingertip graze her bare flesh. She instantly crumpled the table cloth in her fist, and gasped. "Don't do that," Elliot whispered gently, "the old man is getting suspicious."

She looked up to see the older gentleman take a sip from his freshly poured coffee and peeking at them over his paper in curiosity. "Elliot," she took a deep breath, and fought to maintain control of her self, "he's looking right at us."

"Maybe," Elliot took a sip of his coffee again and gently stroked her, "he's looking for some tips," he suggested calmly.

"I hate that you have that smug look right now," she tried to control the start of a pant as she straightened her leg, pressing her foot against the opposite bench of their booth, "this is why you wanted me here, isn't it. Next to you?" she took in a shallow breath, "I can't believe you're doing this."

He slid his finger deeper into her and found her ear, "I'm not the one all wet."

She dug her fingers into his leg, "El-"

"Shh," he kissed her cheek, "Shh. You can't be loud. Don't make a sound."

She whimpered, "That's just ridiculous."

He chuckled lightly, glanced around the diner as if they were simply waiting for their meals, "You feel really warm, Liv… I'm going to make you come, in this diner. In front of these people."

She grinned at the notion and slowly relaxed into the leather bench, "You're a jerk." He breathed against her neck, and continued to stroke her, stopping only to start running lazy circles around her swelling core.

"And you're beautiful," he whispered and lightly flicked her center. Her hand reflexively slammed down on the table top and suddenly more than just the older gentleman was looking at them. She picked a spot on the brown leathered bench across from them and stared. Trying so desperately to control her self. Her hips gently thrust upwards and she knew she was in so much trouble.

He tapped his finger over her again and she gripped the only thing she could find, the fork. She sat there, his hand down the front of her pants, a simple table cloth protecting them, her heart racing, her fork in her hand like a hungry three year old.

She was hungry.

"Elliot," she whispered, "Please."

"Please?" he slid his finger over her again and smirked, "Please what?"

She swallowed and threw caution to the wind, "Come," she chirped and rested her temples between her thumb and forefingers, trying desperately to look normal. Like a person merely waiting for her pancakes.

"Come?" he shook his head, "Where? To work? The movies? Where would you like to go?" he asked again and dipped his finger lower until he could run a full circle along her opening, dipping gently into her body and back up to her nerves once more. "Tell me. I don't get it."

She flexed her jaw, open and then closed, something he's never seen her do. She looked away and then back to the table cloth, "Elliot," she hissed, "Make me- make me come."

"Demanding," he whispered and kissed the side of her neck very aware that the older gentleman, while he appeared to be reading the paper, was in fact watching them. "What do you say?" he teased and took a sip of his coffee again, allowing his finger to rub harder against her. Faster. "What do you say, Liv?"

She groaned her hand slamming back onto the table top, desperate to hold onto something, anything, "Please," she panted, her eyes flitting around the diner, "make me come."

"Yeah?" he said nonchalantly, "where?"

She let out a sob and a nurse on her brake apparently, turned from the bar area to observe the curious commotion from the small table. Elliot watched the nurse's eyes fall to the table cloth covering his wife's thighs, then her face. She'd smiled, shook her head and simply turned back around, letting them enjoy themselves.

"You can't be serious," Olivia hissed.

"Oh," he arched his brows and stopped his movements, "I'm done, then?"

Her hand covered his with uncontrolled speed, thus slapping him roughly, "Right here."

"Right here, what?" he continued to torture her, "I want you to say it, Liv," he said and moved once again. She closed her eyes and Elliot watched in the distance as the waitress put their plates on a tray, "Not much time, Liv. Say it."

She thrust her hips up gently, "Make me come right here. Now," she breathed. "Now, Elliot. Oh please, now." she whispered and hoped and prayed that she wasn't as loud as she sounded in her own head. That her begging wasn't that loud.

He grinned, and moved over her expertly, she took in a ragged breath, felt her body flash hot and her legs instantly began to close around his hand. He kept his index at her center, dipped into her with his middle finger and she broke as soon as the waitress placed her pancakes in front of her, carelessly letting out a breathless, "Finally."

The waitress smiled, "I'm sorry. The cook is new. A little slow."

Elliot took another sip of his coffee. Swiped his finger over her knowing full well she was sensitive. She jumped, her knee hitting the table top.

The waitress took a visible step back, "I'm sorry."

Olivia swallowed and shook her head picking up her fork, "No it's-"

He swiped at her again.

Olivia instantly slammed her fork into her pancake, "Fine," she finished a little too high-pitch to sound normal.

"I'm sorry," the waitress tilted her head, "a-are you okay, Miss?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip, "Fine," she chirped tensely, "just… hungry."

Elliot grinned, finally giving her mercy, "When she's hungry… you've got to feed her."

The waitress smiled politely, "Right. Uh- let me know if you need something," she said and quickly walked away.

He slowly extracted his hand and she shook her head cutting into her meal, "I can't believe you did that."

"Believe it," He smiled and peppered his omelet, "you hungry?"

She smiled, took a bite and looked up to see the older gentleman, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, "Starving."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mommer! I strong boy!" Solomon smiled and walked into his mother's office a red one pound weight in his hand.

She turned in her chair and grinned at him, "Like your daddy?"

"Yeah!" he chirped and executed a perfect arm curl.

"Get up here," Olivia grinned, "where's your sister?"

"Sleepies," he told her, "'Sac?"

"Back at school."

"Eyeballs?" he said and leaned against her chest just as soon as she'd picked him up into her lap, "he get eyeballs?"

Olivia laughed and rubbed his back softly as she extracted the weight and placed it aside her chair, "Not eyeballs. Glasses. Took him in and then took him to school."

"Mommer?"

"Yeah honey?"

"I get a new broder?"

She furrowed her brows, "A new brother? Why would you think that?" she asked gently.

He patted her belly softly, "You give me broder?"

Okay. He didn't know about Drake. Good. Good-he patted her belly, which must mean he's simply asking for her to make a baby for him. Typical three-year old. Okay. Breath. Good. Okay. "You want a brother? Why not a sister?"

His poor face scrunched up, "No more Nanah. Uggh."

She chuckled and kissed his forehead, catching two familiar figures at her office door, "Carp?" she smiled slowly and grinned when Carpedium Stratus stepped into her office with Mac quickly on his heels, "Wow! Come in, come in!" she grinned and stood with her son in her arms.

"Geeze, Olivia," Carp grinned, his hair still perfectly in place, his smile still charming, his boyish looks… gone. An obvious symptom of SVU, "It's been a few weeks. You drop off the face of the earth or what?"

"I just don't think we're good enough for her," Mac smiled and embraced her warmly, "I missed you," he said softly and then quickly tickled Solomon.

"Mackie!" Solomon giggled and held his arms out to him.

"Hey you!" Mac smiled and tossed him effortlessly into the air, "How are you and that terror of a sister you've got?"

"We amazin'!" Solomon smiled, his perfect row of immature teeth lighting up the room. "You takin' my daddy?"

Olivia's brows shot up, "Uh, actually I guess that's a good question. I mean, neither of you just come to visit the gym… what's up."

"Hey! That's not true!" Carp smiled bashfully, "I came to show you pictures of my boy," he waggled his brows and pulled out his wallet, passing the pictures to an anxiously awaiting Olivia.

"How is Aimee?" she asked and looked down at the innocent creature in the picture, bundled up in his mother's arms. Innocent. Clean slate.

"Aimee, is great," he grinned, "Soarin doesn't exactly understand what sleep means, but he's great too," he chuckled and then slowly let his face show his sudden nervousness.

Olivia handed him his wallet back, "He's very beautiful," she said softly and looked at both men. Mac was fidgeting. Carp's eyes were bouncing. "You did come for Elliot," she said softly. "Case?"

"Um-" Mac began.

"Yeah. Rape murder," Carp said softly. "Been, uh-having a hard time figuring it out, even with me in all my brilliance. Figure we'd bring the old timer in and see what he could do."

Olivia nodded gently as Solomon hugged her leg, "Takin' Daddy?"

"For awhile," Olivia said softly and rubbed her hand through his hair before looking back at them, "Elliot… he's-"

"Been having a rough time," Mac smiled softly, "we know. He keeps in touch."

"Really?" Olivia furrowed her brows, "About-about serious stuff? Not just sports?"

Mac nodded gently, "Yeah. I mean, he's never specific but he lets me know… we've got to get moving. He here?"

Olivia nodded to the window, "He's on the floor with a client. I can have him paged."

Carp looked at his watch, "Uh, you know. We've got a few minutes. We're early."

Olivia narrowed her eyes at Carp, "You up to something Carp?" she asked with a smirk.

"What? No," he shook his head and squatted to kiss Solomon on the temple, "cya little guy," he said and quickly left.

She looked at Mac and then out the window to the floor of the gym spotting Elliot finishing up a session with a client, "You two are hiding something from me."

"What?" Mac chuckled nervously, "Come on. That's-"

Olivia smiled, "The truth? Uh huh… I'll figure it out."

Mac bowed his head sharply and walked away, "Better go find the old man, huh?"

"Yeah," Olivia smiled and picked up her son, holding him on her hip, "and tell him, when I figure it out, he's dead meat."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"She said you're dead meat," Mac told Elliot shoving a brown paper sac into his chest just as soon as they'd walked out onto the sidewalk.

Elliot grinned, "Na. Just tenderized… this it?"

"Yeah," Carp interjected as the three men started to get into Mac's vehicle, "you guy's pregnant?"

"What?" Elliot furrowed his brows from the back seat, "Who the hell told you that?" he asked in confusion.

Carp turned around as Mac pulled the car from the curb, "Uh… you asked for Aimee's book of children's names. I could be wrong but as soon as she found out she was pregnant it was like the first thing she bought."

Elliot pulled the used book from the brown sac, "Not pregnant. Just… looking."

"In case?" Mac smiled.

"Yeah," Elliot scoffed, "Cause that's a real possibility. Drive, man."

Mac chuckled, "Sure would be nice if we knew why we had to take our lunches, to come pick up your grumpy ass… it would sure be nice to know where we're going."

"You ran the name for me?" Elliot asked and slowly began to flip through the book.

"That's why we're here," Carp told him as Mac began to slow for a red light, "But we still don't get it."

"I told you," Elliot flipped the page and braced himself as Mac took off sending his head back, "easy man," Elliot cautioned and then continued, "I couldn't go here on my own. Olivia hasn't exactly disconnected her detective radar."

"You're telling me," Carp shook his head, "Woman has a suspicion like nothing I've ever seen."

"Yeah well… try surprising her or something," Elliot laughed and let his finger trail down a page and then turned to the next, "almost impossible… I needed to do this without her suspecting anything."

"Which brings us back to… what the hell are we doing?" Mac exhaled, "you give us a name. We find an address… but uh… what's the deal."

"Can't tell you," Elliot shrugged, "Liv would castrate me and I'm already one down, so… probably don't want to go that route, you know what I mean?" he chuckled and then stilled when his index finger found exactly what he was looking for.

He furrowed his brows, felt his body wince and slowly closed the book. Placing it back in the sac and exhaling sadly. Not sure if he could do this. Not sure of anything.

"Well," Mac put the car in park, "we're here."

"Yeah," Carp looked at the brownstone, "where ever here is."

Elliot peered up at the home from the car and furrowed his brows, "Uh… you sure this is it?"

"This is the address that matches the name you gave us. Beggars can't be choosers you know," Carp told him and glanced at his watch, "Lunch is almost over and the Captain we've got is anal retentive in the worst possible way."

Elliot furrowed his brows and exhaled as stepped out of the car. He looked at the stairs and almost wished he'd brought the cane. Almost. He adjusted his tie, whished Olivia was there to look him over. Okay, no he didn't because if she was she'd of nailed him and he'd be tumbling down those steps just as soon as he told her what was in the house.

The house was well taken care of. Flowers watered. He ran his hand through his hair, then over his beard hoping to tame any wayward hairs. Checked his tie again and rang the door bell. He shoved his hands in his pockets then quickly pulled them out and stood up taller. Checked his tie again and buttoned his jacket. Checked his tie.

"May I help you?" An older woman answered the door.

He checked his tie and swallowed. Was it crooked? Crap.

"Sir?" she asked again, placed her hand on her hip, "You deaf or just wasting my time?"

Elliot blinked and thought he may pass out, "Uh," he swallowed and smoothened out his tie, "I uh… uh, I'm a consultant for uh… the NYPD."

"Well, that's fantastic for you," she smirked, "I have things to do," she said and began to close the door.

"Wait!" Elliot suddenly took a step, his foot holding the door from closing, "Uh," his breath wouldn't come, he couldn't remember the scenario he'd gone over in his mind. He exhaled and gave up, "Look," he licked his lips and stepped back, "Um… my name is Elliot Stabler, I uh. I'm-"

"You say Stabler?" She furrowed her brows and studied him, "As in… Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler?"

Elliot took in a deep breath and nodded slowly, "Yes."

She nodded, "You've come to stare?"

He drew in his bottom lip, not sure why he came, just that he had to. "I've… come to learn. To… try and figure it out."

She scoffed, "Whatever, come in. Make it quick. I've got a meeting with attorneys."

Elliot looked back to the car. Carp pointed to his watch telling him to hurry up and Elliot slowly walked into the home. Surprised. She was wealthy, "Am, I… disturbing something?" Elliot asked as she led him deeper into the brownstone.

"No," she rolled her eyes, "in some ways I've been expecting one of you. Just thought it would be the sister."

He swallowed when she stopped at a door, "She doesn't know I'm here."

"That's very romantic of you," she reeked of sarcasm. "You going in or still wasting my time?"

Elliot furrowed his brows at her, "Why are you so bitter?"

Her brow cocked; "Bitter?" she scoffed "Mr. Stabler, I have the child of rapist in my home. My daughter died giving birth to it, should I be throwing a party?"

Elliot licked his lips and stared at the door, "I don't… know."

"Exactly, you don't," she snapped. "I'll not be responsible for that," she said, pointing to the closed door. "As far as I'm concerned it's a waste of breath."

Elliot's anger crept up, "He's your grandson."

"He's _his_ son," she corrected, "I'll not raise it. I won't."

Elliot swallowed, looked back at the door and slowly raised his hand to the knob, "You knew about Oliver?"

The old woman scoffed "I warned my daughter that I'd cut her off if she married him… she had everything going for her and got wrapped up in some prison ministry pen pal, bull shit."

Elliot turned the knob and looked in the room, the only thing in it was a crib, "There's… there's nothing in here."

She shrugged, "She died, he's dying… I don't plan on keeping it long. First person to take it. Takes it. Free."

"It," Elliot repeated and stared at the crib. The life that was in it.

He walked slowly to the crib. Checked his tie. Ran his hand through his hair and stopped a few feet shy of the crib. The pungent smell of urine striking his nostrils. He furrowed his brows, looked around the room. A small pack of pampers in the corner. There was no way he was going to change this baby's diaper. No way.

He took a step closer. Then another and peered down at the small child, laying in the crib, a pamper and socks his only covers. A thick head of black hair, long legs. Olive skin and that nose. This boy, this '_it_' this… Drake. He was a spitting image of Olivia. Of Hannah. Which meant, he was a spitting image of Oliver… of her father.

He reached his left hand into the crib and gently placed it over Drake's tiny chest. It rose and fell. Drake breathed just like Isaac had breathed when he was this size. This innocent. He stepped even closer to the crib, his body flush with the rail and ran his finger along Drake's cheek. Perfect lips. Two ears. That was good.

Elliot took a deep breath and his hands moved without his permission, gently picking up the small life and cradling the boy in his arms, "Hello," Elliot said and peered down at the olive skin baby. Drakes body wormed it's way deeper into Elliot's embrace and for a split second he wanted to put him back in the crib and walk away and pretend he'd never come.

And just as his hands moved without his permission, so now did his feet. His feet moved at their own will and led him to the small pack of pampers. He kneeled slowly, moaning at the pain in his body and laid the young boy on the carpet. "Alright," Elliot said softly, "uh… you got wipes?" he asked and fumbled around. He came across the small plastic container and exhaled, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

Elliot slid a fresh pamper under the sleeping infant and removed the soiled one, wiping him clean. One peter. Two nuts. Also good. Or bad. Elliot frowned, if Drake grew up to be like Oliver, what then? Drake stirred, his small legs fidgeting, his face contorting into grumpiness and Elliot stilled immediately.

He stared down at Drake.

Drakes sleepy eyes opened and slowly looked around the room, his gaze stopping at Elliot and holding him captive for a small moment before simply returning to sleep. Elliot exhaled and slowly fastened the pamper before picking him back up and adjusting him in his arms so they were face to face, "I don't know," Elliot whispered, "if I can do it… I'm not strong enough to take you on." He slowly and painstakingly stood to his feet. A slow sigh as he walked back to the crib. Elliot looked down at Drake one last time, "I'm too scared," he confessed and gently lowered the young boy back to his crib before walking out and gently closing the door behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Okay mystery man," Carp raised his brow as Elliot slid slowly into the back seat, "you want to tell us why Olivia is gonna kill us?"

Elliot let out a deep breath, let his head fall back to the head rest, "You can never tell her we came here."

"Where _exactly_ is _here_?" Carp asked, his irritation growing more and more evident.

Elliot stared at the ceiling of the car, "Can you take me home, please?"

"Home?" Mac arched his brows, "you don't want to go back to the gym?"

He scrubbed his hand over his face and shook his head. He was sweating and didn't even realize it, "What if I can't?' he muttered.

"Can't what?" Mac asked pulling into traffic.

"Can't be a father," Elliot responded and tried desperately to loosen the knot of his tie. Maybe if he hadn't of checked it so much, it wouldn't be so tight.

Carp turned around to face him, "What are you talking about? You are a father. To four kids. Did you forget?"

Elliot swallowed hard and licked his lips. They were so chapped. "Let me ask you guys something. From a cops point of view… you think Olivia is okay?"

Carp cocked his brows, "She take out a life insurance policy on you?"

Elliot shook his head, smacked his lips, "No… just… what do you think?"

"Besides her occasional temper? And that damn right hook?" he shrugged, "I don't see anything wrong with her… should I?"

"You read the file, Carp… you know as much about her father as I do… you think, uh-"

"Pull over," Carp told Mac, suddenly irritated and clearly upset.

"What?" Mac furrowed his brow, "you know how hard it is to merge into this mess?"

"Pull over," he said again motioning to the curb, "now."

Mac complied and both he and Elliot were surprised when Carp got out of the vehicle and opened the rear door, yanking Elliot out by the lapels of his jacket, "What the hell is your problem!" he shouted and thrust Elliot into the car, "Huh! You think because my father was like Olivia's you can take me around town and flaunt it in my face!"

"Carp!" Mac shouted as he left the car.

"Carp!" Elliot grabbed his wrists, "that's not it!"

"Ass!" Carp snarled as he pulled back and punched Elliot square in the gut, "My father isn't any of your concern! You hear me!" he shouted, holding Elliot by the shoulder of his jacket as he gasped for air.

"Carp," Elliot moaned, holding his belly, "that's not it," he said and struggled to straighten his body.

"Carp!" Mac snapped and separated the two just as Carp was ready to deliver another punch. "What the hell is going on!" Mac demanded holding a palm on each man's chest keeping them away from one another, "Start talkin' Elliot!"

Elliot struggled for breath and exhaled suddenly catching a healthy wind and unleashing his anger, "It's not about you!" he shouted unconcerned with the onlookers, "It's about Olivia! It's about me!"

Carp put his hands on his waist, "What the hell are you mumbling about? You're talking in friggin code, man."

Elliot scrubbed his hands over his face, "Nothin', I'm sorry."

"You know what?" Mac tilted his head and nodded to a corner market, "I'm gonna grab us some sodas… I'll be back," he informed then and slowly walking away least they pounce one another again.

"I didn't know," Elliot exhaled, "about your father. If Olivia knew… she never told me."

Carp nodded softly, "Well… I guess I just did, huh?"

Elliot nodded, "Yeah. Guess so."

Carp reached out, touched Elliot's shoulder and gave a friendly squeeze, "Come on man… what's going on? You have us run a name of some old lady to get you an address, you make us provide you with an alibi so Olivia doesn't get suspicious… what's this about?"

Elliot sucked in as much Oxygen as possible, "Olivia's brother."

"Okay," Carp nodded softly, "I mean… I read the court transcripts… what is it? He out?"

"Sort of," Elliot smirked, "Dying."

"Dying?" Carp's brows shot up, "Serious?"

"Serious."

"Olivia?"

Elliot shook his head, "She's trying not to care, but you know how she is. All bravado on the outside-"

"All compassion on the inside," he nodded in understanding, "she okay?"

Elliot bit his bottom lip, "He had a baby… you know that?"

Carp took a visible step back, "A baby? How?"

"Married in the pen… conjugal."

"Wow… she has a nephew? She want to see him?"

Elliot rest his elbows on the cool of the car and ran his fingers though his hair, holding his head in his palms, "He," Elliot clenched his jaw, "wants Liv and I to… raise him."

"Holy… shit," Carp whispered in shock, "Uh… this why she suddenly fell off the face of the earth?"

"Majority of it," Elliot confessed. "I don't know what to do."

"Wait," Carp suddenly put it together, "Is that-is that the name you had us run? Did you-"

Elliot nodded, "I saw the baby."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Two O'clock in the morning and he'd finally walked into their home. He and Carp had talked extensively after Carp's shift and Elliot had dinner in their home, holding Soarin and peering down into eyes that had yet to change color. He'd gotten so big in the weeks that he and Olivia hadn't been able to separate their struggles from their friend's joys. They'd been selfish in some regards.

He undressed, purposely not putting on pajamas and slid slowly into the bed. His arm instantly wrapping around the comfort of his wife's body and pulling her close to him. She turned and snuggled in close to him, "What time is it?" she murmured and kissed his neck softly, his hand resting on his naked chest.

"Two-thirteen… sleep, Liv," he whispered and watched her face as her head rested in the crook of his arm.

She let her thumb graze over his nipple, her eyes never opening, "You gonna watch me all night?" she asked softly.

He leaned down, kissed her forehead, "If I want."

She smiled softly, moved her hand to rest on his hip and her eyes opened slowly, "You okay?"

He pushed her hair back behind her ear, "Why wouldn't I be?"

She let her hand slowly and gently glide over the back of his thigh, "You're naked." He looked at her, his face so serious she was instantly awake and free from grogginess, "Elliot? What is it? The case? What happened?"

"Shhh," he said softly and kissed her forehead, "case is taken care of."

"What was it?" she asked softly.

"Child Neglect," he whispered and stroked her back.

She furrowed her brows and looked up at him, "Neglect? It's two O'clock in the morning"

He nodded softly, "I know."

She was more and more confused by the second, "Elliot… what's going on?'

"Nothing," he said softly, "Will you sleep next to me?"

Her brow raised, "Um… that's kind of where I am right now. Next to you. In our bed. Of course I'll be here, why wouldn't I be?"

He moved slowly, grazed her lips with his own as he slowly raised her shirt, "I mean… not having sex but… naked. Will you-"

She sat up, cast away her camisole without further conversation and reached under the covers to wiggle out of her bottoms and cast them away before instantly returning to him, the warmth of her skin giving generously to the cool of his body as she slid one leg between his, pushed him slowly to his back and draped her body partially over his, "Of course," she whispered and touched one hand under his neck as she let her other hand roam his body. "Did you solve it?" she asked several minutes after they'd gotten comfortable.

"Solve what?" he whispered.

She furrowed her brows and looked up at him, "You're case… did you solve it?"

He pulled her close, kissed her softly again, "Yeah."

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"I talked to Chloe today and well… a lot of people actually, I hope you don't mind but… it's getting colder now, and if we want to get in one last Bar-B-que, we've got to do it soon and so I sort of called everyone, but if you're not up for it-"

"When?"

She exhaled, "In four days."

He smiled and kissed her hair, "Sounds good. I've missed everyone."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"El," Olivia muttered into his chest only an hour after they'd finally fallen asleep.

"Hmm?"

"El," she pulled his body tighter into her embrace, "I'm cold."

In a sleepy haze, he reached down and brought the blankets over her, "Stop pushing the covers off, then."

She smiled weakly, "I don't."

"Do to," he muttered and then both suddenly jumped and were wide awake, "What was that?" Elliot whispered and Olivia felt his hands go from soft and gentle to possessive, protective and although she'd never tell him, the simple sound they heard sent a fear through Elliot's body that she could feel seep into her own.

"I think," Olivia whispered and reached behind her to pry his grasp from her body, "it was a car door-yeah, that was another one."

"Stay here," he told her and quickly moved, ignoring every pain, snag and tweek in his body as he stood and moved for the slacks he'd draped at the foot of the bed before sliding in next to his wife.

He froze the instant he heard footsteps walking up the porch. They sounded so much like the foot steps White made just after he'd kicked him in his mouth and walked back up the steps and into his home. In search of his children.

"Elliot," Olivia jumped out of the bed, "No. Stop." she told him, seeing that he'd already switched, like night and day as he reached into the closet and pulled out a baseball bat.

The door bell rang just as Elliot was making his way out of the room, half dressed.

"No!" Olivia hissed and quickly found her pajama's grabbing her robe and donning it as she chased him, "No!" she told him firmly as she wrapped her arm around his waist, the other on his hand covering the bat, "Elliot… if they wanted to hurt us… they wouldn't ring the doorbell."

"Yeah?" Elliot pulled away, "That's probably what Casey and Paul thought, too."

Olivia grabbed him again, just as the doorbell rang and a knock resonated. Something about the situation, not flipping her panic switch but then again, she hadn't been beaten and left for dead in their home. "Elliot," she whispered into his shirt, "I'll check before I open the door. It's okay. I promise."

He pulled away from her and went to the door himself. His free hand splayed next to the peephole as his body pressed flush against the door, "Who the-" the door bell rang again.

"Mommer?" Solomon yawned and rubbed his eyes, "Mommer, I get it?"

Olivia turned immediately to her son, "Go back to bed, Solomon."

He began to whine, "But, I tired."

"Then go!" Olivia hissed and turned his small body to his room, a small pat on his bum, "and shhh!" he ran down the hall crying that he didn't get what he wanted, but there was no way she wanted him here if the person or person's on the other side of the door proved to be less than friendly.

Another knock.

"Jeans a shirt," Elliot whispered to his wife then moved to the separated between the door and the frame, "Who is it!"

"We represent Annabell Ficilano," the older voice answered back, "sorry to disturb you but we really must talk to you, I have Mr. Stockdale with me, sir."

"Stockdale?" Olivia whispered, "Who's Annabell?"

Elliot knew who Annabell was. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, "Yes, can we help you?"

"Good to see you again, Mr. Stabler," Mr. Stockdale nodded softly, "I'm sorry it is so late, but… may we speak with your wife, please?"

"My wife?" Elliot raised his brows and lowered the bat to the corner of the foyer as he looked over his shoulder at Olivia who simply nodded, "Sure," Elliot responded and opened the door wide enough to let them both in.

"Olivia," Mr. Stockdale smiled, "it's good to see you."

Olivia exhaled, ignored the comment because it wasn't really good to see him. It wasn't good to have a constant reminder of such a pressing matter, "El… can you hit the lights, please?" she whispered and she and everyone flinched just a little as the lights instantly illuminated the home, "Please," she cleared her throat in nervousness, "have a seat."

"How can we help you?" Elliot asked opening the foyer closet and donning a sweater to cover his bare chest before sitting next to his wife.

"I'm Jeffery Golub," the attorney began, "I represent Annabell Ficilano who is Drake's biological grandmother."

"Oliver is dead?" Olivia whispered and locked her eyes with Mr. Stockdale's, "Is he?"

Mr. Stockdale leaned in and nodded his head softly, "Yes… as of one-thirty this morning, he's gone to be with the Lord."

Olivia arched both brows, "I'm sure that's debatable, the Lord part I mean. Kind of a fresh death, huh?" Olivia let out a nervous laugh as she began to slowly unravel, "I mean, shouldn't you be doing something at the prison right now? Some sort of last rights or I don't know, burning of the body, or something I mean-"

"Liv," Elliot whispered softly and squeezed her hand, "it's okay. He's gone now. You don't have to be strong. You don't have to worry anymore."

She wanted to cry but wouldn't give Mr. Stockdale or the attorney the privilege in seeing it. She wanted to wrap her arms around Elliot and tell him thank you for getting her through all of this, for marrying her in spite of the baggage she had, for loving her in spite of the burden that would always be held until there was no more Oliver. She bit her bottom lip, "What do you want, Mr. Stockdale?"

"You know why I'm here, Olivia," he said softly and changed his stare to look right at Elliot, "you both know why I'm here."

Olivia stood, shaking her head and putting distance between her and the two men in her home, "I don't care that he's dead," she told them firmly. "I don't."

Yes she did. Elliot saw it in her face. Saw the way she moved about the living room like an addict going through withdraws, or an animal ready to bolt. She was suddenly skittish and her emotions were building.

"I'm afraid," Mr. Golub chimed in softly, "this really doesn't have much to do with Oliver, per se, so much as Drake."

"Drake?" Elliot whispered, "What about him?"

"We have," Mr. Stockdale exhaled, "twenty-four hours to place him, before the grandmother turns him over to the state."

Elliot looked up at Olivia who simply stared back at him. She didn't have a definite decision. One minute she knew it was a yes, knew that they could do it and the next minute she wasn't so sure. Elliot, has never been sure.

"Please," Mr. Stockdale begged them, "Annabell is forgoing all of the standard adoption procedures. She wants him gone. Which means, all you have to do is pick him up. No money is involved, no lawyers other then Mr. Golub to make the adoption-"

"Adoption?" Olivia questioned, "What makes you think that we were planning on adopting… what makes you think we could raise him as our son? Did you ever stop to think that maybe if we did decide to take him it would be as a Nephew only? I mean have you thought any of this through Mr. Stockdale or do you just enjoy coming into my home and throwing our lives into chaos?"

She was breaking.

"Olivia," Golub looked up at her, "he's a boy."

"He's _his_!" she snapped. Yesterday he was a boy who deserved a shot. Today he was _his_. There was no way she could do this.

"Regardless," Golub said softly, "I need a decision. Annabell has chosen the time of death as the starting point… twenty-two hours, is what we've got to work with now, Olivia… please."

She looked at Elliot. Looked at him with pleading eyes to just make a decision. Yes or no. Just get it done and she'd go with it, but she couldn't make the decision because she knew Elliot would go along with it and it would eat at him and fester and he'd turn to the bottle and sooner or later their marriage would be destroyed.

Because of her.

Because of the baggage she brought to the marriage.

Elliot exhaled, groaned as he scrubbed his hands over his face, "I don't know."

"I'm not making this decision," Olivia snapped at the two men, "You have no right to force me to make a decision that could ruin my marriage and what about my children? Did you even consider how they would feel about another baby in the house!"

They'd be in heaven and she knew it.

"Elliot," Olivia looked at him with tears falling, "the house is too small."

He sobbed into his hands. She loved him enough that she would forsake what her gut was telling her, to protect him. She would condemn her self to a life full of guilt if it meant he would be okay. If it meant they would always be together She was giving him a way out. Trying to make logical reasons for why they couldn't bring a baby into their home.

When that's all they wanted to do.

Elliot rubbed his temples with his fingertips, "I don't know," he breathed, his own tears falling steadily, "I don't know. I can't make this decision."

She sniffled, her tears fell faster, "The house is two small. We'd have to convert the office," she sniffled, and shook her head, "we don't have things ready. It wouldn't be a good choice," she whispered then suddenly grew more irritated, "I'm not doing this!" she suddenly snapped louder, "I'm not going to add this burden to us… do you know anything about us?" Olivia began to sob, "I mean, do you truly know anything of what we've been through! The last two years… we've finally started to get somewhere and we've been happy and then you show up here and you're gonna ruin it!"

Elliot stood, closed the gap between then and held her tightly, "Shh," he whispered and stroked her back gently, "Shh, we'll figure it out."

"They're gonna ruin it, Elliot," she sobbed into his chest, "We've been happy for a long time and they're gonna take it from us."

"No," he kissed her cheek, "no. No, they won't. I won't let them. I promise. We'll figure it out, everyone will win. I promise."

"You asked me," Mr. Stockdale said softly, "if I've ever considered what you two have been through-if I'd thought this through. I can assure you, Olivia that the reason I'm begging you to take this child is precisely because of the things you have been through!" he became more firm yet tender in his intent, "Olivia, you and your husband are fighters and all I'm asking is that you give this boy your best fight."

She sniffled and held her husband tightly before suddenly breaking their embrace and walking away, "I'm not choosing. I'm not. I can't."

Both men looked at Elliot and Mr. Stockdale stood slowly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset her, I just… he's just-"

"A boy," Elliot nodded, "I know.


	12. Construction

Silver Lining

Chapter 12 Construction

_Seventeen hours to go. _

"To what do I owe the honor?" Casey smiled softly and sat on the small bench just off a running path in Central Park, "White Chocolate Mocha," she whispered and handed the steaming beverage to Olivia.

"Thank you," Olivia sniffled and Casey immediately wrapped her arm around her shoulders and brought her close as the September wind lifted their hair, tangling it so that blond and brown mixed behind them as they sat. Casey brought her other hand around and hugged her tighter. "I'm sorry," Olivia whispered.

"No," Casey rubbed her arm briskly. "No. Don't be. It's Saturday morning. Isaac would have called me sooner or later," she chuckled softly, "I'm really not surprised Sam taught him how to do that, either… from what I hear Sam still calls Alex and Robert… my guess is that Solomon will start in on Chloe and Donovan just as soon as he can dial and I'm sure Hannah is gonna go for Carp and Aimee," she said softly. "You've got great kids-"

"I want Drake. I do," Olivia blurted softly and straightened her self as she shook her head, "I want him but, it's like there's only a piece of me that wants him and… I want my husband more."

Casey furrowed her brow, "Olivia… is Elliot, I mean-"

"No," Olivia shook her head adamantly. "No. He'd never make me choose… and that just makes this so much more difficult!"

"Hey," Casey raised Olivia's hand that held the coffee, "drink some."

"I ca-"

"Drink some," she encouraged her again and then added, "It'll warm you."

Slowly, Olivia took a small drink of the hot liquid and closed her eyes as it slowly warmed her throat spreading through to her body, "He wouldn't do something like to me, make me choose," she whispered softly.

"Okay… sounds pretty good to me."

"No." Olivia exhaled, "No, it's not good! If I choose to take Drake, Elliot eventually hate me for it. Who's to say he won't one day look at Drake and see nothing but Oliver or my father? And if I choose not to take him in, at least give him a shot… well, I'm not sure I can do that, either."

"Olivia," Casey smiled gently, "do you really think Elliot is that type of a man?"

Olivia shook her head, "No. No, I think he's amazing for letting me make this choice, but I think… I mean… what if-"

"What if what?" Casey encouraged.

"What if… we take him in and it puts too much pressure on us? What if we break?"

"You mean, break up?"

She swallowed hard, "Casey, I have never thought there was a possibility that Elliot would ever leave me, I thought maybe we'd have a lot of animosity between us at the very most, but… what if this turns out to be too much? What if he wakes up one morning and it's too much?"

"Olivia, you're gonna 'what if' Elliot to the grave… sooner or later, you're gonna have to have complete and total trust in him."

She sniffled, ran her hand through her hair and exhaled, "I trust him."

"With what you let him have. Olivia, you and I both know that you have had things happen in your life that don't allow you trust completely. You may trust as much as you possibly can, but… have you ever thought just for a second that if you let him choose, that he'd make the right decision for both of you? Have you ever thought that maybe he has enough unconditional trust that he knows you'll make the right choice if he let's you?"

"That's just it!" Olivia snapped and stood up, "What _is the right_ choice?"

Casey stood and slowly wrapped her arms around her friend and held her tight, "I don't know."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Aimee Stratus married Carp because if she didn't, she'd see him go bankrupt in toll bridge charges. That and she loved him more than she thought was possible. She'd tortured him when he first asked her out, made him ask her in front of all of his friends at the Stabler house. They had taken it slow even though she fell in love with him, perhaps the first second she saw him, but definitely the first time she kissed him. And she was the one that kissed first, because if she had to wait for Carp to stop being so nervous she would have never known that he likes cinnamon flavored candy. She would have never felt that tingle at the tip of her tongue the minute she slid inside the warmth of his mouth. If she hadn't kissed him first, she would have never felt the sparse facial hair about his face that has since filled in nicely when he forgets to shave.

If she hadn't kissed him first she wouldn't have the opportunity to be staring at him right now as he slept next to her. He'd stayed up with Elliot so long and Soarin had decided to take a little time for lung development and cry from three until four in the morning to which Carp simply stayed up with their son and waited patiently for his displeasure to pass.

Carp was an amazing father and while he'd never admit it, Aimee has caught him, on more than one occasion, frantically dialing his mother's house begging for advise, she's overheard him call her own father in the middle of the night when Soarin refused both the bottle and the breast and the most hilarious conversation she witnessed in quite possibly her life was when he very worriedly asked Elliot if that 'bat' that his son came equipped with was supposed to be that small.

Aimee smiled softly, caressed Carp's cheek and kissed his lips before quickly slipping out of bed, their son expressing his desire for breakfast-now. She moved quickly to change the grumpy boy, but wasn't as fast as her breast's reaction to a crying infant. Any crying infant for that matter. She'd become a pro at breast feeding with the help of Alex and Olivia. She missed Olivia. Missed the coffee sessions the women let her be apart of. She still went, but the absence of one lady always meant something was up.

Quickly, she positioned her fussy son to her breast and he frantically latched on. His loud sucking telling her he was definitely on a mission to fill his small belly. She walked with him in her arms to lull him just a little, just enough that she could sit down and start rocking him without him noticing the sudden switch. He always seemed to notice, and while most moms have trouble with things like latching on… she has spent entire breast feeding sessions on her feet because Soarin would not let her sit down.

He was taking the whole _Soarin_, thing to the extreme.

She finally sat with him, rocking him slowly as he suckled from his mother. She exhaled in relief and closed her eyes.

"You goin' to sleep?" Carp asked from the door way and slowly made his way into the small nursery, kneeling next to his family in his tightie-whities and craning to see his son, "he's just like you, you know?" he smiled softly and looked up at Aimee.

"How's that?" she whispered and ran a finger absently over her son's cheek.

"Eats standing up."

She grinned, "He's letting me sit a little bit."

"I see," he smiled softly and rose up just a little farther to kiss her cheek, "But you're usually eating over the kitchen sink… Good morning."

"Good morning… you should get more sleep. You were up pretty late."

"Nah," he shook his head and ran his hand over Soarin's head of the thickest, blackest hair. "Nah, I'd prefer you two over sleep any day of the week."

"Carp?" Aimee exhaled softly and looked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Elliot and Olivia, okay?"

Carp exhaled, looked down at his son, "They'll be fine."

"Anything we can do for them?"

"Just be there," he said softly and still continued to run his fingers through his son's hair, "Kids gonna have great hair like me."

She grinned, "You're hair line is receding."

He furrowed his brows and touched his forehead, "What?"

"Kidding," she laughed, "I just like to see when your eyes do that."

He laughed, shook his head and let out a slow steady breath, "Olivia has a nephew."

She stopped rocking. "What? Wait… I thought you told me-"

"From the brother," he shook his head softly, "She'll kill me if I tell you-"

"I already know," Aimee said softly, "About the brother. About the father. The rape. I know."

He furrowed his brows and looked up at her, "You know? She told you?"

"Carp," she chuckled lightly, "there are a whole lot of us that get together for coffee, once a week, and sometimes we see each other more than that… you get to know a person. Sometimes, she's on the news, still. You know how the media is… things came up and she told me."

He licked his lips, "I wish the media would leave them alone."

She smirked, "They own one of the most successful gym chains in New York and look at all the good things they've done. They opened up the free self-defense classes, and there's the after school mentoring program… they're in the spotlight for good stuff this time. Let them shine, don't take that from them."

He exhaled and sat Indian style, "I don't know what to do for them."

"You just told me-be there."

He shook his head, "Is that enough? To just physically be there for someone? I mean… I don't know."

"You and Olivia… have some stuff in common, Carp," she reminded him as she used her tip-toes to start rocking again. "What would _you_ want?"

Carp looked at his son and remembered coming up with the name. They'd been on top of the Ferris wheel when she told him she was pregnant. Literally on top of it. Stuck in fact. He'd mistaken her nervousness for being scared of heights but then she'd suddenly blurted out the fact that she was pregnant and she followed up immediately with an apology because they'd only been married for two weeks and neither of them really wanted a baby right from the start. They wanted to grow as a couple first and then expand. He refused to accept the apology, refused to let her cover that occasion with a dark cloud. No way. She was pregnant! With his baby! That was a celebration!

He kissed her on the top of that Ferris wheel, kissed her and held her and assured her that he was so incredibly happy, despite the fact that he was terrified of what it could mean for his child. But instead, he'd held her close; let her rest on his chest in the cramped cart as they looked up into the night sky. The cart had moved, jerking at first, then more smoothly and that. coupled with the news that he was going to be a father for the first time, made him feel as if he were soaring through the sky and he was certain there was no better feeling than to be that free and that happy in spite of uncertainly.

He'd suggested Soaring as a name and she'd shot it down just as the Ferris wheel had come to another abrupt stop. She said it didn't sound right. He grinned and kissed her cheek, offered the name Soarin instead. She mulled it over then asked what they would do if the baby was a girl to which he shrugged and told her it didn't matter.

"I'd want to have… people around me," he finally responded and then suddenly froze.

"Carp?"

He licked his lips, a full plan coming into action, "I'd also like to be hit with the truth."

She stopped rocking again, "Which is?"

He looked at his wife, "Janna."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't know what to do," Elliot shook his head and leaned back on the couch of Robert and Alex's home.

Robert watched him carefully and slowly sat on the opposite cushion, "He's just a little-"

"Boy!" Elliot snapped and threw up his hands before standing and running his hand over his hair, "Yeah! I get that, already! But you know what? He's not _my_ boy!"

"Well," Robert leaned back and nodded softly, "That was very much the ass hole in you that was being illuminated wasn't it?"

Elliot turned and glared at him, "What the hell do you know?"

"Not much," Robert smiled, "that's what Al tells me, but I know one thing for sure," he took a breath and exhaled. "You came here because you knew I wasn't gonna placate you… you know what you have to do Elliot. Drake is a little boy who is innocent in all of this. And quite frankly, if you don't take him-"

"What?" Elliot snarled, "If we don't take him, _what_? You _will_?" he spat in anger.

Not so much as blinking at Elliot's anger, Robert nodded, "Yes. Alex and I will."

Elliot's chest heaved as he struggled to force himself to breathe. The anger within him, the shame within him constricted his lungs, balled his fist, his nostrils flared and in an instant Elliot retreated, slamming the door in hopes that all Robert would see was anger.

Instead of the fear and shame that consumed him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Fourteen hours to go_.

"Olivia?" Santos smiled and slowly peeked into the office to see Olivia with Hannah in her lap, both looking over an expense repot on the laptop computer.

Olivia looked up and shyly removed her glasses, placing them on the desk, "Yeah?"

"You have a visitor… did you want me to take Hannah to the day care?"

Olivia looked at the clock, "I'm not scheduled for training today, who is it?"

"Um," Santos furrowed his brows and looked down at a small post-it in his hand, "Don?"

Olivia's eyes widened in hope and confusion, "Don?"

"Yeah… said you used to work with him."

Olivia grinned, "Don Cragen? Please. Send him in. But Hannah will stay, he loves to see her."

"Gandpa here?" Hannah beamed and turned her neck to look up at her mother, "Grandpa come to get me a kitty?"

Olivia laughed, "He's here, but probably not with a kitty… Santos, can you send him up, and hold my calls, please?"

Santos smiled, "Sure… do you want me to get Solomon in here?"

"Um, if he's not sleeping, usually he's asleep right now."

Santos nodded softly but didn't move. He looked at his boss, assessed her, there was something wrong. She'd come to work and hit the treadmill for well over an hour, pawned her clients off to another trainer and has stayed in her office the entire day when the entire gym staff knew she preferred working with the people. Cautiously, Santos took a chance, "Uh… is Isaac okay?"

Olivia locked eyes with him a little taken back by the question. "Yeah. Why? Did the school call?" she asked in dread.

"No," he smiled softly and exhaled as Hannah stretched to grab her mother's glasses. She grinned just as soon as she managed to get them, then frowned as soon as Olivia took them away and scooted her off of her lap.

"Go, play please," she said softly and Hannah grinned as she ran to the corner of her mother's office where all of the best toys were. All of the toys that only stayed in the office, and weren't shared with anyone else other than the Stabler kids. "Santos?" Olivia looked at him expectantly, "You need to say something?"

"You look stressed out. I thought… well Mr. Stabler-"

"Elliot."

"Yeah," he bowed his head softly, "he said Isaac needed glasses. But, you still look very… not you."

She smirked weakly, "Hope you don't tell all the ladies that."

He smiled softly, took a hesitant step inside the doorway, "Just the ones I care about… you okay?"

Olivia leaned back in her seat, "I have a dead line today… sort of important I make the right decision."

He smiled gently, "Indoor or outdoor pool in the next gym?"

She let out a weak laugh, tapped her pencil on her thigh, "No… little more serious. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure… not sure I'll give you a good answer but, ask away," he said and slowly sat down on the edge of a chair.

She licked her lips, tossed the pencil onto her desk, "What do you think is right, nature or nurture?"

"Nature," he said simply and shrugged.

Olivia nodded softly, her gaze faltering to the floor where she saw her hope lying lifeless right next to her strength, "Oh," she said weakly.

"But," Santos said, clearly oblivious to the disappointment on his boss' face, "I think that nurture plays a crucial part too, ya know?"

She looked up and watched him, "No, no I don't know. I mean, it's either one or the other, right?"

He scrunched up his brows and pursed his lips, "No way," he licked his lips. "It's like uh… well, say you've got a baby tiger who's lost his mom or something along those line, nature would kill him right?"

Olivia glanced at Hannah who was currently enjoying her Leap Frog, "I don't understand the point."

"The point," Santos smiled and stood to leave, "is that another tiger could care for the cub or an entirely different species, like a human. I mean, we see it all the time, with dogs and kittens and stuff like that-"

"You get me a kitty, Santa?" Hanna grinned and looked up at her mother's personal helper.

He let out a healthy laugh, "It's Santos and not exactly! You still pressin' your mama for one?"

She shook her head adamantly and smiled as she made her way to him, "Yeah, like you tellded me to."

Santos' face flushed, "Short stack, you weren't supposed to say that."

"So you're the one," Olivia smiled softly and motioned for Hannah to sit back on her lap.

"Sorry," Santos said with a small chuckle and quickly turned to leave, "I'll get Don."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Thirteen hours to go_.

Samuel Stabler knew a lot of things about a lot of stuff. He had gut intuition and he had knowledge of life that was far beyond his years. He knew the Bible. He knew it well. He knew about grace and anger and forgiveness and all of the deep and conflicting things that most adults struggled with. He knew about sports, and he knew about chess. He knew about Karate and he knew about self-restraint. Sam knew about the deeper things too. He knew about the painful things. He knew that his parents were in a peculiar place that made the house feel different. It didn't feel as solid to him as it had the last year, but he still felt safe. Sam knew a lot and there was one thing, one minute thing that he knew.

His father has only picked him up from school one other time without his mother.

And that night, his father was almost killed.

Sam knows a lot of things about a lot of stuff, but knowing that his teacher has dismissed him from his science class because his father is waiting to take him home, has made him frantic. He knew that to get to the office he had to go down two flights of stairs, take a left and walk fifty paces before he'd find the door.

Sam knew a lot of stuff, but none of that stuff mattered because as he jetted down the stairwell, somewhere between his panic and his terror and his memories of his father begging for help while he was being beaten in their home… he'd lost his count.

Sam had lost his way.

He stopped, as soon as he realized he didn't know what level he was on and frantically felt about the walls hoping to discover anything that would make sense to him and he couldn't and the terror that crept into his body was growing more intense with each fruitless pass of his fingertips along the wall and banister.

The fear that consumed him, the fear that told him that his father was at the school, unannounced had culminated in his body flashing hot, his palms sweating. He dropped his back pack to the ground, the heavy thud echoing in the empty stair-well. He crept closer to the wall, his hands sliding frantically to and fro looking for the placard that should tell him exactly where he was.

"God, please," he whispered, "please, I don't know where I am."

"Well," a familiar voice softly sliced into his distress… and caused even more. "I'm not god, but uh… you're on the wrong floor."

Crystal's perfume lingered into his nostrils and shredded his heart before he could even ask for help. His tears built up and threatened to pool before he could do anything. He'd forgotten about his back pack and took a step back before he broke in front of her. His arms flew out in front of him in a frantic attempt to gain some sort of balance, and just as he felt his body arch backwards and the impending doom of the steps threaten to crash against his body.

He felt her warms hands around his wrist. Pulling him back to her.

Pulling him back to balance.

"You're a klutz," Crystal smiled sadly. "What's wrong?"

Sam swallowed the lump of adrenaline in his throat and in his attempt to breathe wrapped his fingers around her forearm, "What floor is this?"

"Samuel… you're shaking."

"What floor!" he asked and inadvertently tightened his grip on her.

She licked her lips, wished he could see the pain on her face, "Sam! Stop it! You're hurting me!"

In frustration, he let her go and turned. He'd forgotten his bearings and ran smack into the wall, "Damnit!" he yelled and slapped his hand against it, only to feel the pain seep into his palm and wrist, he yelped and hissed.

Hesitantly, Crystal rested her hand on his shoulder and slowly turned him to face her before picking up his bag for him and slinging it over her shoulder. She moved closer to him, took his hand to place it at her elbow.

He jerked away from her almost violently and that was her last straw. Frustrated with her best friend who has ignored her withdrawal, who has avoided her phone calls and who has asked for a different science partner, she slammed her hand into his shoulder, pushing him into the wall, "What the hell is with you!"

"Leave me alone!"

"No!"

"Crystal-"

"I miss you!" she blurted and it shocked her into silence.

Sam took in a breath, momentarily wincing at the pain in his shoulder, "Hey, you're the one that suddenly dropped off the face of the earth."

She nodded softly, "Yeah… yeah I was hoping you'd come a get me. But apparently I'm not as important to you as I thought… find your own damn way, ass hole," she shoved his bag into his chest and turned to retreat.

Sam heard her sneakers step quickly over the steps of the stair-well and he was split between his father and Crystal and all he wanted was both of them. All of them.

Her. All of her. Always her.

"I want you," he said holding tight to his bag like it would shield him from whatever was about to happen. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to know why his father was here, too.

But he wanted to kiss her. Smell her. Touch her. Taste her. He wanted to use the senses he was never able to use with her because he never understood that he'd want to. Until recently. Until they stood in that bathroom and he'd felt the tip of her tongue slide over his. Until his fingertips grazed her face. He heard her stop but didn't hear her turn around. Didn't hear her start to descend back to him.

If he could see her, he'd see the tears well up in her eyes, her head bowed. He'd see that she'd given up on him. Given up on them being boyfriend and girlfriend. Given up on their friendship. "No," she swallowed, "you don't."

In anger and frustration he threw his bag down, "Yes I do!"

He heard her coming down the steps now and there was anger in her footsteps. He backed himself into the wall, his body scared and wanting his father. He wanted to ask this morning why there were visitors so late. He wanted to ask his father what was happening, but right now, he wanted his best friend too. He wanted that safety net that she provided him. He wanted to hear her voice that calmed him, wanted to hug her like they always had before the complications of teenage feelings entered their friendship. He wanted the comfort of her scent before the knowledge of her lips against his existed. He wanted his best friend because, through everything, she has been the one that has been his constant, even more so than his parents.

"No you don't," she sniffled and looked boldly at him. "If you did… why are you such an ass to me all of the time, now?"

He furrowed his brows, his breathing fast, his heart beat faster, "I," he shook his head, "I-I," he wiped furiously at a tear that tried to fall.

"What?" she pressed him, her voice softer, momentarily forgetting the anger she felt, "please Sammy, what's happening to you? Where's my friend that loved me so much that I felt good enough to be his friend? Where's he at?"

"I'm-"

"Excuse me!" A sudden snap from the top of the stairs, "Are you two, not supposed to be in class?"

Crystal closed her eyes and clenched her jaw, a small whisper as the janitor walked down the steps demanding they return to class, "Where's my friend?" she asked him softly, "Cause I really miss him."

"Get back to class! The both of you!"

"Why don't you shut up!" Crystal shouted, suddenly turning to the janitor whose brows shot up in surprise, "Can't you see he's a little lost? What the hell!"

"Crystal," Sam whispered softly and touched her arm, "it's okay, he doesn't-"

"No!" she wrenched away form his touch and stared just as boldly at the janitor as she had Sam, "Don't you have more important things to do than scare the crap out of someone who is already scared? Like clean a window or toilet or-"

"Crystal?"

Sam groaned the minute he heard the principal's voice cut into the dispute, "Damnit," he muttered and shook his head. He wanted his father.

"Crystal and Samuel… Stabler?" The principal stood with his hand on his waist, a radio in his other hand. Something about the way he said Crystal and Samuel Stabler made the corner of Sam's face twitch up into a smirk.

"You think this if funny Mr. Stabler?" The principal asked. Sam cleared his throat in nervousness. "I asked you a question young man."

"No, sir," Sam said softly, "I… I uh, I got… lost trying to get-"

The principal exhaled, "To the office… I know," he said in understanding before looking at Crystal, "You may as well come with us."

"Why!" Crystal demanded, the anger in her voice was something that Sam knew was all his doing.

With a nod of his head, the principal excused the janitor and glared at Crystal, "Loose the attitude young lady-"

"Screw you!" Crystal bit back.

Sam arched his brows in surprise, "Crystal," he said softly, a tinge of warning in his voice mixed with a whole lot of regret, "Crystal, he's just-"

"Shut up!" Crystal snapped at Sam and shoved past him and the principal. "Stupid ass hole." Sam exhaled. That was Crystal, if she was gonna go down, she was gonna go down in a blaze of glory.

Sam heard the principal talking into his radio, telling the office staff that he'd found the Stabler boy and was bringing him to the office.

Found the Stabler boy? Had he been that lost that someone was looking for him?

Or was something so terribly wrong that every second he was stuck in that stairwell his father was frantic?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"G'anpa Kegger!" Hannah giggled and immediately ran to Cragen, squealing with sheer delight and satisfaction as he lifted her high above him and then settling her small body over his chest and smiling down at her.

"Hello, little girl," he chuckled and kissed her gently on the forehead. "You look as pretty as the day I first saw you."

She grinned and pointed to her mother, "I'm like my mommy!"

He smiled and lowered her to the ground, "In so many ways," he said softly and cut her loose to run to her toys. He smirked when she suddenly stopped and turned around to look at him in curiosity, "you forget something?"

She licked her lips slowly, her brows furrowing before her eyes shifted and looked at her mother who was looking at her with a raised brow. A warning brow, that indicated she knew exactly what Hannah was gonna ask. And she'd better not.

Always one to throw caution to the wind, Hannah drew in her full lips and looked back at the man she knew to be her Grandfather, "You get me a kitty?"

"Hannah Elizabeth!" Olivia groaned.

Captain Cragen laughed and kneeled in front of her, wrapping his large hand around the rear of the toddler's neck and pulling her close to whisper, "I'll give you whatever you want," he smiled and kissed her again, "go play while I talk about it with your mother, huh?"

Hannah smiled, her premature teeth in full bloom before looking at her mother, "I tolded you. G'andpa Kegger love me."

Olivia chuckled softly and shook her head, "He spoils you… go play, please," she instructed and stood to embrace Cragen as Hannah went back to her previously discarded Leap Frog. "Good to see you," she smiled and took in his reassuring hug, his comforting smell that reminded her of family and friendship. Reminded her that even though she didn't know a father growing up, she knew one the second she stepped through the doors of the 1-6.

"Good to see you, too, Olivia," he said before squeezing her tightly and releasing to look at her, "You look like you've been on a case and just slept in the crib…for a month."

She took a breath, looked away from his knowing face and looked down at her oblivious daughter, "She's so in love with you, Don."

He smirked, "Well, at least I got one of the ladies rooting for me."

Olivia chuckled and leaned up against her desk watching Hannah as Don watched her.

Assessed her.

"Who told you?" Olivia asked softly.

Cragen crammed his hands into his Dockers and shrugged, "Carp. He's such a pain… worries about you… it's like having another Elliot, but without the sexual tension," he chuckled.

Olivia looked up at him, blushed and pushed herself off of the desk before pulling her chair out from behind it and positioning it next to her former Captain, "Don," she shook her head, her eyes wide with the feeling of being overwhelmed, "I- I got to tell you… I don't know what to do."

He looked at her with comfort in his eyes, with familiarity about his face and leaned in, "One thing I've known about you, since the day you came to me, is that… you always know what to do… sometimes it just takes you a little time to figure it out. To submit to it."

She drew in her bottom lip, scraped her teeth over it and shook her head, "No," she looked him straight in the eye, "No… I've gone over it in my mind a million times and… I don't know what to do."

"What's your gut tell you?" he asked her as if he were questioning her about a case rather than trying to help her come to a conclusion on a matter so personal and frightening he saw the torment in her features.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip and exhaled, "My gut tells me… that I'm a mother," she shrugged as if there was nothing else to say. As if the simple act of giving birth to her children, of rearing Sam as her own should prepare her to be able to love Drake.

Drake.

The son of the man that raped her.

"Olivia," Cragen took a careful breath and looked at her, "what is it that you want?"

She looked at him for a long moment and furrowed her brows, the desperation increasing with each movement of her muscles, "Tell me what do to, Don… tell me," she shook her head, "give me an order and I'll do it. Either way, just tell me what to do in this situation because I have no idea."

"I can't tell you what to do, Olivia. It's not my place."

"Yes it is!" she hissed and then looked at him with pleading eyes, "Please… please, let it be your place. Just… tell me what to do, I'll do it. Just like when you were Captain and I was a detective. I'll do it."

He smirked and looked at her, "And just when in the hell did you ever listen to me?"

She let out a sob of laughter and shook her head before letting out tears and trying to stifle them the minute Hannah looked at them in curiosity. Olivia smiled and tilted her head at her daughter hoping to stave off her developing suspicion that mom was getting upset. Hannah held her mother's gaze for a small moment, looked back at her grandfather and smiled softly as if assessing them both and knowing that it wasn't possible for her grandfather to her mother. She returned to her toys.

"Don-"

"Carp is waiting at the café across the street for you," Cragen told her softly.

Olivia furrowed her brow, "Carp? Why?" And come to think about it, "how did Carp know abou-"

Cragen glanced down then back at her, "He wants to talk with you… I told him, I'd come play with my grandkids while you had coffee with him."

Olivia glanced back at Hannah and couldn't help but compare her features to Drake's. They were similar from the picture, which meant her and Drake came from the same place. The same DNA. "My gut… it's failed me before, Don… on cases."

"So?"

"DNA doesn't lie… I can't-I can't risk Hannah that way, I can't invite a part of Oliver into our home and hope that everything will be okay. Hope that my marriage will survive it."

Cragen smiled softly, "Olivia, DNA lies all the time… how many cases have we dealt with that we thought we had it because of DNA only to find out… we didn't have squat?"

She shook her head, "But… DNA, it's always a place to start, it's always what we looked at… it always told us a story."

He nodded, "Yeah, it did… but not at first glance. It was our guts that told us there was more. What does your gut tell you about Drake's DNA?"

Her voice was tight with pain, "He's his. That's all I can see right now. That's all I can understand."

"Then you need to look further… you need to go with your gut. Yeah, you're right, DNA is always a place to start, and it will always tell us a story, but… this is your chance to write Drake's story. Yeah, he's gonna have some definite markers of his father, but you know what? He can have you, too. You have all the power in the world to decide that little boy's story."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You scared me," Sam confessed in a gentle voice as he and his father sat on a park bench over looking the water, "I thought, maybe something happened to, Mom."

"I'm sorry," Elliot said in a genuine regret that he'd upset Sam, "I just… I thought you'd like to get ice cream with your ol' man."

Sam smirked, licked the mint glob on his waffle cone and shrugged, "Beats science class."

Elliot laughed softly and tilted his head as he watched Sam relax against the bench. His son sat exactly like he did, legs wide, back flat against the furniture, arm extended. He wasn't his son by birth but it was amazing to see how much Sam had inherited from Elliot. His likes and dislikes, stubbornness and sometimes his cockiness that melts away only around his mother. Elliot has been told, only a handful of times that Sam looks like him and it's during this time that he assesses his son and wonders if maybe it's because Sam has developed so many of Elliot's traits that he simply resembles Elliot. Maybe it's because they both love to build, they both furrow their brow in thought the same way. Maybe it's because, in spite of all the things that they've had to go through, they love each other unequivocally.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" Elliot snapped out of his thoughts and swiped his tongue against the cool mound of cookies and cream.

"When you met Mom… did you always love her?"

"No," Elliot smirked, "You're mother could be a royal pain in the butt," he laughed, "But… she absolutely caught my attention the moment I saw her."

Sam nodded softly and took another lick of his ice cream, "I got lost today," he said with a hint of shyness, "In the stairwell… I got lost."

"Yeah?" Elliot furrowed his brows, "How'd that happen? You've got that entire school memorized."

Sam licked the cream from his lips, "I uh… you never pick me up, especially not in the middle of school. I sort of thought..." his voice trialed off, "You know? The last time you picked me up… White happened."

Elliot was just about to take another swipe at his melting treat when he froze, tongue mid swipe. He slowly lowered the ice cream and rested his hand on Sam's shoulder, "Son? You still worried about him?"

"No," Sam said honestly. "Not him exactly. But… it's sort of like cockroaches you know? You know if there's one, there's got to be more. Maybe… maybe there's more people like White that want to hurt you, that want to hurt us."

Elliot rubbed Sam's shoulders, slid closer to him, "Samuel… no one is gonna hurt us. No one."

"Dad?" Sam bit his bottom lip and Elliot smiled. Somehow he'd possessed his wife's traits too.

"Yeah?"

"I miss Crystal."

Elliot nodded softly, took another sweep of his ice cream, "You should call her then."

"I uh… talked to her today."

Elliot arched his brow, "Really? What'd she say?"

Sam groaned, "Something on the lines of me being an ass hole."

"Sam-" Elliot warned.

"I know," Sam exhaled, "my language sucks… I miss her," he muttered taking a bit of the waffle cone, "I miss her, but… you know… I don't want to be inside of her. That's gross and that's scary and… Dad," Sam suddenly began to struggle with his tears, "Dad… when Grandpa Wilson… was… Dad," he exhaled, "he was inside of me," he sobbed and dropped his ice cream into the grass.

Elliot frowned not understanding where all of this was coming from, and honestly not being ready for it. He discarded his own ice cream and pulled his boy close, "Oh, Sam-"

"It hurt so much, Dad," he sobbed and wrapped his arms around the strength of his father, "It hurt and I wanted someone to save me… I don't want to be inside of her, I don't want to hurt her."

Elliot closed his eyes in shame and held his son, "No, Sam," he whispered softly as the sun temporarily hid behind clouds, "No… oh, no. I've confused you so much. I'm so sorry."

Sam held on tight, "I can't do it Dad, but… today I wanted to kiss her again, like to calm me down. I was lost and nervous that I couldn't get to you and then I heard her voice and… I wanted to kiss her… but I don't want to be inside of her. That's gross."

_Olivia_.

"I'm sorry," Elliot whispered and pulled back to look at his son, "Oh man, Sam I'm sorry."

Sam wiped his face and turned to face forward, "Why? I'm the one that pissed her off."

Elliot chuckled softly then exhaled, "No… I'm sorry that I haven't been man enough to really answer your questions about sex."

Sam furrowed his brows, "Doesn't matter… she's so mad at me she told the janitor off and then chewed out the principal… probably suspended now."

Elliot rubbed his hands over his thighs and nodded, "Sam, you two will work it out… what do you want to know? I'll answer you as honestly as possible… even though it's probably gonna embarrass me to death."

Sam turned to face his father and for the first time ever, wanted so badly to be able to see his father, to see what he looked like, to see what it looked like to be strong and honest and a man, "Why do I have to be inside of her? Why… why, can't I just kiss her? I liked that."

"Sam," Elliot clenched his jaw and dove in. "You don't have to have sex with her. You don't have to be inside of her; in fact if you did I think your mother and I will have simultaneous heart attacks."

Sam furrowed his brows and licked his lips, "Then… I mean… I don't understand. Why did I get an erection?"

Elliot's eyes momentarily crossed but he was bound and determined he would explain this to his son. He was SVU for crying out loud; he's explained this stuff and million times! "Sam," he exhaled, "you and I are guys and sometimes that really sucks."

Sam cocked a brow, "Huh?"

"Yeah," Elliot nodded, "because when you like someone, sometimes your body does things that are down right embarrassing and confusing."

"Like… like what happened with Crystal in the bathroom?"

"Yeah, exactly like that," Elliot nodded. "The thing is Sam, part of it is that you're changing into a man and you've got no control over what your body is doing, so naturally, when you were kissing Crystal your body really liked it… enough for you to respond by getting an erection."

Sam took a moment to contemplate, "I… I wanted to touch her. Is that bad?"

"Well," Elliot pursed his lips in thought, "what do you mean?"

Sam fidgeted on the bench and drew in a slow breath, "Like… like I hadn't really thought about before, like… like, uh…maybe, uh…. I wanted to know… uh, what the skin on her stomach… uh felt… like."

Elliot's eyes bulged, "Oh."

"That bad dad? Not normal?" he asked quickly, "Was I bad?" he begged in insecurity, "Did I hurt her!"

"No!" Elliot told him firmly, "No. Sam. Listen to me; it's natural to wonder about things like that. Did you touch her… like that?"

Sam shook his head, "No, but… I wanted to."

Elliot let out a slow breath of relief, "Okay-"

"My… penis kind of… uh, well, my hips sort of wanted to touch hers. I wanted to be close to her."

"Like I told you… that was normal. It's normal. You're normal."

"But, Dad… I don't want to wet in her… I want to hold her hand and I want to walk her to class and hug her and be her science partner… I don't want to be…" his voice trailed off and he shrugged.

"Be?" Elliot shook his head, "Be what?"

"Grandpa Wilson… I don't want to do those things. Be inside of her."

"Sam," Elliot rubbed his shoulder again, "your grandpa… well, remember how your mom and I explained it to you? What he did to you was so wrong."

"But," Sam shook his head in total frustration, "You said that when a man loves a woman, his body does this, gets hard. And then he wets in her. You said that happens with you and mom-"

"Samuel," Elliot interjected softly and vowed to himself that he'd never do this to Isaac; he'd learn from his mistake and be as honest as possible from the first question asked. "When you get older, you'll want to have sex and you'll enjoy it because what you'll have won't be anything like what your grandfather put you through. It'll be as gentle and loving as you want it to be."

"Will it be with Crystal?" Sam asked in innocence, "She's beautiful and I really like her. I miss her so much, Dad… will it be with her?"

Elliot smirked, "Not if you keep being a jerk to her."

"I don't mean to," he confessed miserably, "I just… I like her, but I don't want to hurt her."

"Sam… you don't have to have sex with her. You're too young to be having sex anyway and you've got a lot of things you need to work out with Mag's before you even think about having sex with someone."

Sam licked his lips, "I don't understand… if I have an erection and I'm supposed to be inside of her-"

"You're not supposed to be inside of her," Elliot corrected.

"Then, what do I do with it?" Sam asked, "When am I supposed to have sex? How do I have sex?"

Elliot thought for a few seconds, "Sam, when the time is right, and you're in love with an amazing woman, you'll know."

Unsatisfied with the answer Sam pressed his father, "How do you have sex? Why is it different from rape? If you're not a rapist, but you still have sex with mom… how are you not raping her?"

_Mags. Olivia. Help_.

"Sam," Elliot lowered his voice and forced himself to continue, "when I make love to your mother, she trusts me completely and I trust her. I'd never hurt her… rape hurts. Making love, well, that should never hurt."

"So… you're inside mom? And she's okay with that?"

_She's more than okay with that. Trust me_.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded. "She trusts me. She's okay with that."

"And," Sam rubbed his chin in thought, "you're okay being inside of her?"

_Duh. _

"Yeah. Yeah I am."

"How… how does this happen? I mean, Grandpa," he exhaled "Dad… it hurts."

"Sam," Elliot rested his hand on his thigh, "I'll be blunt with you. Yeah, your grandfather did some disgusting things that weren't meant to happen. He did things that… weren't supposed to ever happen to you. As you get older, you're gonna need to talk to me and your mom and Mags because you're gonna get confused. Sex…making love to your wife, that's an amazing thing, Sam."

"Amazing?"

"Absolutely."

"You make love to mom?"

"Yeah."

"She makes love to you?"

"Yeah."

"How… how do you get inside of her?"

"Well," Elliot rubbed his temple. The week was turning out to be really, really crappy. "There's a reason why men get erections-"

"Why?"

"It's so we can make love," he said matter of fact. "The man's penis fills with blood, just like I told you and it helps him enter the woman's body."

He licked his lips. Seemed okay with the explanation, "Does it hurt her?"

"Well," Elliot ran his hand over his beard, "The first time a woman makes love, it can be uncomfortable for her. That's why you need to be a gentleman and be very soft with her."

"Soft," Sam whispered, "I can be soft."

Elliot arched a bro, "You can be soft in twenty years."

"Huh?"

"Nothing… just… what else are you curious about?"

Sam tilted his head, "Well… does it hurt the man?"

"No," Elliot shook his head, "not really."

"Feels good?"

"Yeah. Feels good, but when it's with your wife, the woman your totally in love with. It's amazing, Sam."

"Why… why do you have to wet inside of her?"

Elliot shifted and rested his chin on his hand that once covered Sam's shoulder, "That's how babies are born… when you're body does that, it's producing sperm and eventually that sperm could produce a baby."

"A baby," Sam repeated in thought. "That's a real big deal."

"Yeah, it's a real big deal, Sam. Sex is heavy stuff. If you're not ready for it, it complicates things and it has big consequences like diseases."

"You're gentle with mom?"

"Sam," Elliot covered his shoulder again, "I love your mother. I'm gentle with her."

"When you kiss her… this happens?"

"Yeah, I told you that."

"So," Sam faced forward again and gathered his thoughts, "I can kiss Crystal… but not have to be inside of her?"

"Yep."

"I don't have to have sex with her? I won't hurt her?"

"Right."

"But… maybe when I'm older and I talk to Mag's more… I might want to?"

Elliot nodded, "Right."

"And I should be soft with her?"

"Yes."

"So… my penis gets hard and that helps me make love to a woman? But, I have to be careful because I could get a disease or make a baby?"

"Exactly."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not supposed to hurt me?"

"No," Elliot shook his head, "No, it's supposed to be one of the most amazing things you'll ever be able to do."

"It's not supposed to hurt her? Just make her uncomfortable the first time? But after that it'll feel good?"

"Yeah."

"Dad?"

Reaching borderline exasperation Elliot closed his eyes, "Yeah?"

"How come you picked me up?"

Elliot gently ran his hand over Sam's hair, "I wanted to be with my son, today."

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_Twelve hours to go_.

"Carp?" Olivia rounded the corner once she saw the man she'd reluctantly left the gym to see, upon her former captain's request, but she froze the minute she saw the woman sitting across from him.

"Olivia," he stood as soon as he saw realization that he'd trapped her flash over her face, "please. Just talk to her."

Olivia looked at the woman and back at Carp, "Who the hell do you think you are?" she whispered, "What in the hell is your problem, Carp!"

"Mrs. Stabler," Janna stood to her feet and to Olivia's mortification a toddler in pink sat tucked safely in a high chair.

"I don't believe this," Olivia took a visible step back and stared at Carp, then Janna. She'd been raped. She'd been one of Olivia's last cases she'd worked and Carp had convinced her to keep the baby. The baby that looked up at her and smiled, kicking her feet in happiness as she waved at a perfect stranger.

"Please," Janna smiled softly, "Please, sit. I'd like you to meet someone."

Olivia visibly shook her head, trying desperately to clear her mind, "I- I – can't do this. I'm sorry."

"Olivia," Carp interjected, "Sit down."

"Screw you!" Olivia hissed and couldn't help but let her eyes flit back to the little girl in the highchair. "I have to go."

"You and I have something in common, Olivia," Carp told her as she turned to leave. "We're both a product of something bad."

Olivia stopped dead in her tracks. Unconcerned the people in the small diner were looking at the three people, standing up. Two pleading for the one to join them. He'd gotten her attention, but he needed her to sit. He needed her to see how amazing this child was. He needed her to believe that something good could come out of a child whose father was a rapist. He needed her to see herself. "We're both _theirs_. Olivia. The men that no one knows about. The men we'll never know. But we're great people Olivia. We are. You and me. We're all the good that makes the bad… survivable."

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_Two hours to go._

Olivia kicked her shoes off in the hall. Looked at her watch and exhaled. She hung her light sweater in the hall closet as she envisioned Drake's grandmother, whatever she looked like, strapping him into a car seat and anxiously awaiting the state to show up at her door and remove the child that she apparently couldn't stand to look at. She closed the door softly and exhaled, resting her forehead against the door, before drawing in another breath and crying softly. She wanted that little boy because she knew what to look for. She knew what signs to watch for and she could protect him from what he could become. She could save him.

She would put that aside to protect Hannah. To protect her marriage. She would let him go.

She sobbed there in the darkened hallway of her home. Sobbed with her face against the door of the closet. She wept for a child she would never know, but she knew would always haunt her, would always stay in the back of her mind.

Would always remind her that she willingly failed a victim. Drake.

He was a victim after all. And an innocent one at that.

But, the fact of the matter was she had to protect her children. Had to protect her marriage. This was what she would have to force her self to repeat because she knew as she labored for breath in the hallway, that by giving up on an innocent child, she was giving up on the ability to ever be completely happy.

Because thoughts of Drake, of what he would become in twenty years would stalk her.

She took in a ragged breath and felt her husband's forearm suddenly wrap around her waist, his other arm wrap around her chest and hold her tight, "It'll be okay," he tried to reassure her.

She caught the uncertainty in his voice and pulled away from him, walking deeper into the house. She wiped at her face before turning to look at him in the pale light of the darkened house, "It's late," she sniffled, "we should go to sleep."

"Liv-"

"I can't talk about this, Elliot," she confessed weakly. "I can't."

"Where… where have you been?" he asked in genuine worry.

She exhaled, "Nowhere."

His brows raised, "Nowhere? Cragen called me because the gym was closing and no one was there to get the kids."

She looked at him, anger dancing hot in her eyes; she flipped on the light, "What are you getting at? You think I'm having an affair?"

He furrowed his brows and looked behind him quickly almost positive there had to be another person in the room because what she'd just said was so non-sequeter he didn't know what to do, "What!"

She couldn't believe that fell out of her mouth. That was just the most ridiculous statement she's ever made, but if they were gonna fight, it needed to be about something that wasn't gonna break her. It couldn't be about Drake. Not now. Not ever. "What exactly are you accusing me of?" she tilted her head and stared at him, "Not being a good mother by not picking up the kids, or not being a good wife by screwing someone else?"

Elliot's mouth slowly fell open into a perfect 'O', "What… are you… talking about, Olivia?" he finally managed, "No one is accusing you of anything! I was worried about you. For crying out loud, Cragen is babysitting the monsters over night and Alex has the boys. You didn't pick up Isaac's glasses and you didn-"

"I HAD STUFF TO WORRY ABOUT!" She shouted so forcefully he felt her breath crash against him.

"Olivia," he managed to stay calm, although his nostrils flared, "don't do this to us. I told you… whatever choice you made-"

"Shut up, Elliot," she shook her head slowly, "just shut up. I asked you! You said you couldn't do it. I'm not making this decision on my own!"

"Olivia-"

"SHUT UP!" she raised her hand to her ears and growled in frustration, "shut up. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!"

His anger caught him off guard, "NO! YOU SHUT UP!" he barked back and grabbed his keys from the foyer counter, "You shut up!"

"You're leaving?" She yelled incredulously, "That's right. Walk away! Nice, job. Elliot!"

"Where the hell is your ring!" he shot back, spinning on his heel.

She cocked her brow. What in the heck were they actually fighting about? "Now whose non-sequetor?"

"Olivia," he shook his head and breathed deeply, "we've got two hours, here."

"For what! Huh? You don't want him, Elliot!" she screeched, "You don't!" she exhaled and ran her hand through her hair before lowering her voice and looking at him, "and that's okay… its okay, Elliot."

He furrowed his brow, "You don't trust me."

"What?" she shook her head, "What? That's ridiculous."

"It's the truth… you're so scared, you're trying to pin this on me. You're trying to make me out to be the one who doesn't want him."

She threw up her arms, "Elliot! We're not even making sense!"

His chest took in air in almost violent heaves, "Drake's file is on that counter," he told her angrily as he pointed over her shoulder into the kitchen and closed the gap between them so they were inches from each other, "Do you want that baby or not, Olivia?"

She stood her ground. She wanted him. Wanted to protect him and knew that together they could. Somewhere deep inside the recess of her heart and mind she knew they could, "I," she swallowed, her eyes never leaving his, "I want my children and marriage safe."

She swore she saw disappointment pool in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, obviously expecting, perhaps hoping for a different answer, "That's not what I asked you," he said, his fight suddenly extinguished. He bowed his head and walked away, and out of the house.

She stared at the front door he'd left open, watched him disappear into the night, the headlights of his truck turning on before the engine roared to life. She stood motionless, not sure what had just happened. Slowly, she hooked her hand behind her neck and rolled her head softly. The paperwork Elliot spoke of catching her eye and reigniting her fury. She walked to the door and closed it. Stared at it and opened it again only to slam it with every ounce of anger and frustration and shame she had. Somewhere, a picture had fallen off of the wall and shattered from the violent slam of the door.

She leaned against the door and slowly slid down to the floor. Weeping.

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_One hour to go_.

Beer sounded really good. Really good. Elliot sat in the bar, on a bar stool and thought of Sam. Of a young man who was slowly rising against the odds in his life. Slowly growing into a man in front of his eyes. He'd been curious, today. Curious and innocent. He'd been so concerned with hurting someone he loved that he'd sacrifice his own happiness. Sam had been a conqueror in life. But he had also been someone else. Something else.

He'd been the son of a rapist.

"What can I get you?" A robust bartender with a balding head asked. A polite smile given as he draped a hand towel over his shoulder.

Elliot looked up at him. Confusion and defeat clearly written across his features, "Tequila, please."

"One shot," the bartender smiled, "comin' right up," he nodded sharply and with a few seconds had Elliot's temptation starring at him in the face.

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Olivia leaned back in the driver's side of the SUV and exhaled. She pushed Elliot. She knew she had. She pushed him and she kept pushing him and she is growing more and more concerned because she's checked three bars now and hasn't found him.

There must be a thousand bars in New York.

She groaned, looked at her watch, looked at the file that sat motionless on the dash board. She'd glanced at it before she left the house. Just to see, to know a little more about Drake. The address had seeped into her memory like a cancer that rots and grows in peoples bodies. She exhaled, looked out the window at the bar she knew Elliot had been to before. She slid slowly out of the SUV and shut the door, walking around the front of the vehicle. She stopped the moment she turned to set the alarm and she caught that damn file starring back at her.

Angrily, she turned back around, yanked open the car door and snatched the file from the dashboard, ripping the thick manila card stock and the papers in contained before slamming the car door and shoving the shredded paper into the trash can just outside of the bar. She looked down at the damage and crammed her hands in her pockets. She exhaled and quickly made her way into the bar.

Within seconds she knew he wasn't there. She couldn't feel him. Couldn't sense him. She fingered the small picture she had in her hand and kept her eyes moving over the men in the bar as she made her way to the bartender, "Excuse me," she cleared her throat and smiled weakly, "I'm uh, looking for someone, wondered if you'd seen him?" she asked and held up the picture of Elliot.

He smiled, scratched his balled head, "Sure have."

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She looked at her watch and made the decision to run the red light. Olivia cringed as she heard another car's breaks lock up, the tires screech. Elliot had left the bar a mere five minutes before she had arrived which meant she could still get to him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was no room for her vehicle, she could already tell, the second she pulled onto the street and saw the lined up cars along the curb. She made an immediate right and parked in what she was sure was an area she wasn't supposed to park in. She looked at her watch again as she slid out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut.

The numbers were so far from the sidewalk that she couldn't move at a full run until she gathered her bearings and finally figured out, in the dark where she was. She moved as fast as she could, her claves and quads propelling her as if she were chasing a perp down the sidewalk instead of looking frantically for her husband.

The cooling air made her throat raw and she couldn't remember the last time she had to run like this. A treadmill is one think, but the pounding cement is quite another. She stopped, ran up a ramp of stairs only to decide she'd had the wrong area before quickly descending them and moving further down the sidewalk, accidentally crashing into people who were walking by, minding their own business. She muttered an unconcerned 'excuse me' and 'sorry' but after the third set of steps her confusion got the best of her and she heaved for air, her hand holding her aching side.

She slowly walked down the steps of the last house and stopped on the sidewalk, shaking her head. Why she thought he'd actually come here, she didn't know. She looked at her watch again and exhaled, Drake would be given away. Discarded.

She'd called Elliot more times than she cared to admit and what was really pissing her off and driving her insane was the fact that the phone rang. It didn't go straight to voice mail which meant he could hear it ring and was ignoring her. She pulled her phone out again, dialed his number and held it to her ear, "Come on, El. Pick up. Please?" she muttered, "I'm sorry. Just… pick up the damn phone."

The phone rang loud and she paused bringing the cell phone down to look at it. It rang again, and in spite of it being in her hand, it rang just as loud and then it dawned on her. She heard both a ring and his ring tone. Which meant…?

She spun around, holding the phone to her ear and trying to train the other one to figure out the direction. She took her best guess and ran.

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Elliot stared down at the phone. Stared down at the blue screen the illuminated the words, Sexy Wife Calling. He looked up at the familiar structure the stood in front of him and looked back down at the phone he held in his hand and he knew then as he stood in front of the house that held Drake that he could never betray his wife by willingly taking Drake home tonight.

The phone rang in his hand again, Ray Charles' "I've got a woman," starting over again. What the heck was he thinking? Did he really expect to come here, take this child and bring him home? Did he expect that Olivia and he could do this?

Yes.

The phone rang again and he very slowly flipped it open with his thumb and held it to his ear, "Yeah," he whispered weakly, the brownstone holding him transfixed.

"Where are you!" she panted into the phone.

Elliot stared at the house fully aware that a vehicle had double parked only seconds ago. They were here to take Drake. "Here," he said softly as if she knew where that would be.

"Where!" she gasped, "I don't see you!"

Something about what she said should have made him move. Should have made him look around but all he saw was the woman through the woman, gently lowering a little baby into a car seat, "Here," he repeated just as hollow as the first time.

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"Where is here!" Olivia yelled into the phone as she stopped to look around at her surroundings. There was no way she could have heard his cell phone this far down. "Elliot!" She scanned the houses to her right, looked across the street to her left and back down the street she'd just ran.

And there he was.

Standing lifeless, across the street. She'd passed him, somehow. In her panic to find him. She'd passed him. "Elliot!" she yelled into the cell phone and closed it before he could respond. She shoved it in her pocket and blindly ran into the street.

For the second time in an hour she'd heard the screeching of tires and she stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights as the car came barreling toward her.

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She'd yelled and somehow, it caused him to turn around. He'd turned to see her shoving her phone in her pocket as she started to make her way to him. He's turned just in time to see that she didn't see the car coming.

He moved as fast as his body would let him and then forced his body to move even faster, "LIV!" he screeched just as the brakes locked, "MOVE!" he shouted, horror captivating and forcing him to move faster. To cover cement and asphalt in a split second.

It's funny how life plays out in front of you when you think you're going to loose everything. He thought of the kids, how in love with their mother they were. He wouldn't be able to raise them alone. He thought of the gyms and knew there was no way he could run a company; no way could he handle finances.

He thought of her, his wife. Lover. Best friend.

Thought of her and moved faster, propelling his body through the air, his shoulder colliding with her body. The impact sending a surge of pain through his side as she buckled over him, a loud, "Ummph" when the brutal contact to the wind out of her.

She landed painfully on her back, a yelp escaping her right along with any trace of air she had in her lungs. Elliot's weight slammed into her a fraction of a second later and she could see the illumination of break lights before hearing the sudden screeching of tires as the car sped away.

She whimpered under him.

"Liv?" Elliot groaned and pushed himself up, "Liv? You okay?"

She laid there, her eyes closed, the dampness from the gutter seeping into her jeans, "El," she panted, "what happened?"

He let out a sob of relief, "I swear," he kissed her cheek frantically, "why don't you ever look before you cross the street!" he scolded and kissed her again, holding her there, in the street. Alone. "You could have died!" he growled in her ear as he cradled her, "Damnit, Olivia… you could have left me!"

The daze slowly started to fade enough that she wrapped her arm around his neck, "I'm sorry," she said weakly.

"Just look, next time," he told her sharply and kissed her cheek again before softly, "Please, just look next time."

She sniffled, "I mean… I'm sorry- for everything. For all of this," she whispered.

He pulled back, looked at her and gently helped her sit up next to him on the curb, "How'd… how'd you find me?"

She rubbed the back of her head, vaguely aware that there were two people at the front door where Elliot originally stood, "The bartender," she winced as she touched the forming lump on the back of her head. "I showed him your picture. Said you ordered tequila."

Elliot exhaled, ran his hand through his hair and looked up at the door, watched as one person stepped away with what looked like a diaper bag while another continued to wait at the door, "I didn't-"

"I know," she nodded, "he said you traded it in for a soda… said he talked to you."

Elliot licked his lips and rested his hands on his knees, hanged his head, "Yeah."

"Said you kept rambling about a baby… I just… figured. I don't know, I- this is where my gut said you'd be."

Elliot looked at her and breathed slowly, the sound of a small cry in the distance, "I talked to Sam today… about sex."

Olivia nodded softly, "Oh. Did he flip?"

"No," Elliot shook his head, "in fact… it went really well."

"Elliot," she looked up, saw an older woman pass a car seat to an awaiting officer who bowed their head, "I can't… I… I-"

"Sam is the son of a rapist," Elliot nodded his head and looked at her, "You're the daughter of a rapist and you both," he reached up and caressed her face, "are the most amazing people I've ever loved."

She broke, as the sound of the officer's feet struck pavement, a car door opening, "I can't do this if we're not a team. I can't," she nodded her head. "I," she licked her lips and looked at the space between them, "I trust you to make a decision we can both handle, together."

Elliot nodded softly, "It'll be hard."

"We've done hard," she said softly.

He swallowed and very slowly pushed himself up, lowering his hand to help her up before he laced his fingers with hers and walked her safely across the street.

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"Excuse me," Elliot approached the officer slowly.

"Yes, sir? Can I help you?" He asked as he turned to asses them both, "You folks lost?"

"No," Elliot shook his head and nodded to the infant seat in the car, "is that Drake?"

The officer's eyes flitted between Elliot and Olivia, "And you are?"

Elliot squeezed Olivia's hand and took the biggest leap of his life, "His next of kin."

The officer's brows shot up and his partner immediately came to his side, "Everything okay?"

Olivia's gaze remained locked on the car seat, not sure she wanted to see the young life. Not sure she could handle seeing him. "We uh," she started and then faded.

"We, uh," Elliot exhaled, "if it's not to late… we have a home for him."

"You're next of kin? How?" the officer asked in suspicion.

Olivia furrowed her brows still starring at the car seat, still unable to see the small infant, "Uh, I'm… I'm his aunt, he's… he's," she looked up at the officer, stunned, "Drake is my nephew.'

The officer groaned and looked to his partner, "Oh, that's a lot of paperwork."

"Tare it up," Elliot said softly and shook his head "Tare whatever paperwork you have, up. What difference does a few feet, a few minutes mean?" he asked motioning to the space between them and the front door.

"We can't just give you the baby, without some type of proof," the officer explained.

Elliot exhaled and looked down at his wife before looking back at the house, "I know the grandmother," he confessed softly and felt Olivia's shocked stare, "I know, her. I've talked to her… she'll agree."

"Elliot-" Olivia whispered in shock.

"Alright, alright," one officer held up his hand and motioned for the other one, "let's just all sit down and try and figure this out," he said and ushered Elliot and Olivia back up the Brownstone steps.

Olivia rested her face in Elliot's chest fully aware that Drake lay swaddled in the car seat that was being carried behind her. A blanket draped over it to keep him warm. To protect her from seeing him for jus a little while longer.

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Olivia stared in shock at the woman that was Drake's Grandmother. She looked like a typical woman, educated, wealthy and attractive. Yet, here she sat with two CPS officers, an estranged aunt and uncle to the son of a rapist. To the child she couldn't bear to have in her home, but that Elliot and Olivia were willing to accept, no matter how blind their faith had to be in this moment.

It had taken over an hour and a half for the CPS workers to make phone calls even after Drake's Grandmother confirmed the Elliot had previously visited that she knew exactly who they were and that they were more than welcome to have 'it', just so long as 'it' was out of her house.

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They'd agreed to take one car back to the house and both of them suspected it was because neither of them wanted to be alone with Drake. Alone with the very tangible decision they'd made. Together.

As a team.

Neither one of them had raised the blanket to peer down at the small boy. The CPS officers had helped them clip the car seat into their SUV after Elliot had walked to retrieve it. They rode home together in silence, the fear between them thick and extremely palpable.

They both got out of the SUV and hesitated as if to see who would move to gather Drake from the back seat. To her surprise and dismay, it had been Elliot that reached in to unclip the seat. Neither of them had removed the blanket.

"He's uh… quiet," Olivia stated the obvious as she slowly slung his diaper bag over his shoulder.

Elliot smirked softy, "I'm sure the boys'll take care of that."

She took in a breath, released a sob, "Elliot," she shook her head and looked at him pleadingly, "I can't do this."

He moved the car seat into his dominant hand and pulled her close with the other, his hand gently massaging the knot forming on her head, "Yes you can. We've made a choice. He's ours, now. Ours."

"The kids… we didn't even prepare them," she sobbed, "They went to school knowing it was just the four of them and they're gonna come home and suddenly have another baby in the house."

"It's gonna work," he assured her and he hoped she didn't hear the fear in his voice, "It's gonna work. You and me. He's ours, from this point on. Ours."

She sobbed into his chest harder, balled his shirt in her hand, "I'm so scared you'll look at him one day or I'll look at him one day, and… we'll only see, Oliver."

He pulled back, kissed her forehead, "Not gonna happen. I won't let it. I promise."

She sniffled, looked up at him and found the resolution in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. He stuck out his hand to her, "Come on… we've got a lot to do."

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Elliot watched as Olivia stared at the car seat, the pale blue blanket draped over it. The silent baby within. She folded her arms across her chest, but within her hand was a small picture. Elliot stood quietly, a towel wrapped around his freshly showered hips. He'd thought for sure, if he gave her a few minutes alone with him, her curiosity would get the best of her and she'd at least take off the blanket.

Only because he couldn't.

"I'm scared, too," he said softly as he made his way to stand next to her. "I'm scared; too, Liv, but… we can't keep him in there."

She looked down at the photo in her hand, "Why… why didn't you tell me you saw him?"

He furrowed his brows and exhaled, "I… I wanted to know… If I could look at him and see something other than, Oliver."

She looked up at Elliot, licked her lips, "What did you see?"

He smiled softly at her, "Your nose."

Her tears raced down her cheek as she closed her eyes, "Elliot-"

"Your tanned skin and long toes," he let out a weak chuckle, "I saw you… it took me awhile, but I did."

She swallowed and rested the picture on the dresser, "I don't understand why, if you saw me, you fought it."

He narrowed his eyes, "Liv… what kind of man would I be, if I willingly hurt my wife by bringing into our lives a constant reminder of a man that raped her? I wanted him… but, I wanted you more," he whispered and gently hugged her from behind, "I don't think anything about any of this makes any since, but… I'm willing to do this, with you. I saw you in him Liv, which means… he's got a fighting chance. He can make it just like you did."

"What about Hannah?" she whispered.

"Liv… we can't do this to ourselves, we can't. We have to trust ourselves to do this or we're gonna sink."

"What if… what if I can't love him like he's ours?" she whispered, "What if… what if he can sense it when he's older? Then what?"

He kissed her cheek softly, laced his fingers between hers, "You and me, right now, Liv. We're gonna make a promise. He's ours. He's my son, I promise you."

"Son?" she swallowed, "That's… that's a heavy thing, Elliot. I'm barely coping with Aunt."

He held her tighter, "He's my son, I promise you."

She arched her neck up. Kissed his lips softly and turned in his embrace. She gently pressed her tongue into his mouth, tasted his conviction and sipped softly from the truth that held firm to his lips, "He's my son," she whispered and kissed him gently again, "I promise you."

She let him hold her tight unconcerned with the minutes that passed them by until a gentle fussing was heard behind her. She licked her lips, buried her face into her husband's chest, "What did he look like? Different from the picture?" she asked softly, refusing to let go of him.

He kissed her temple, "Mmm, more hair," he smiled softly. "Just a touch bigger… he's uh… got an innie."

For some reason, the fact that Drake had an innie made a small amount of laughter bubble up between them both. Drake fussed a little louder and Elliot pulled back, a kiss on her forehead, "I can leave if you want to be alone with him."

"No-" she shook her head, 'No. Stay."

"Okay," he nodded and watched as Olivia gently rested her slender fingers over the blanket and slowly pulled it down before casting it to the mattress.

She stood there, staring down at a child they'd just declared to be their son and she took in the sight of him. He was tiny and bold all at once, his gaze locking onto hers instantly. "Hi," she whispered and raised her hand to him producing an up and down motion with her fingers.

Drake's eyes fluttered as if finally catching sight of her had calmed something within him. Elliot embraced her form behind again and peered over her shoulder, "He likes you."

She licked her lips and stared down at him, "He doesn't know me."

"He will… if we give him a chance."

"I wanted him," she confessed. "I did. But I wanted you more."

He kissed the lobe of her ear gently, "I know, Liv. I know… it's not like we had months and moths to discuss this. We made due with what we had… it'll be okay."

She exhaled, "Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," he whispered, "Me too, Liv."

"For everything… for this evening… I-"

"Shh," he rubbed her arms briskly, "let's put him to sleep."

"We don't' have a crib set up."

Elliot nodded, "Solomon and Hannah's beds have rails."

She nodded, "Yeah… Solo wouldn't mind."

"Okay," Elliot nodded and waited for her. Waited to see if she'd pick him up. It took what seemed to be several minutes but he watched the tears roll down her cheek as she finally, for the first time, touched Drake, running her knuckle along his cheek before gently unclipping him and removing him from the car seat.

He watched as she focused on the small life in her arms and brought her close to her chest, "He's a little guy," she whispered to Elliot but kept her gaze locked on the small boy.

Elliot ran his hand over the fine, silky baby hair and kissed his wife's cheek, "Small but mighty."

She smiled up at him, "You're corny."

He smirked, "He'll figure it out sooner or later."

She nodded, "Um… should probably change him, huh?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "Uh… I did it last time, this one is yours," he teased.

She smiled softly, "You… you changed him when you saw him?"

He nodded, "Yeah, Liv… I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shook her head and walked him into Hannah and Solomon's room as Elliot followed with the diaper bag.

She was gentle with him, taking in every inch of his small body. The way he breathed, the jerking motions of his tiny legs once the pamper was off of him. He was a baby. He moved the same way Isaac and Solomon had when they were this young. He fought sleep the same way Isaac had when she changed his diaper.

"Here," Elliot said gently, "I warmed it," he told her and passed a bottle of formula he made from the diaper bag, to her.

"Do you think he's hungry? I just changed him," she said, so unfamiliar with this new life.

He smiled as she cradled him in her arms, "If he's gonna be a Stabler," Elliot whispered and gently rubbed the nipple of the bottle over Drake's lips before he instantly latched on, "he'd better learn how to eat like one."

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The sun peeked into their bedroom far too early. They'd finally fallen asleep in each other's arms only an hour, maybe two hours ago, and she was fighting to stay asleep. Then the sudden realization of what they'd done slammed into the forefront of her mind and she was instantly unnerved and awake.

She gently moved out of Elliot's embrace and tiptoed lightly into The Monsters' room, stopping to peer over the rail of Solomon's bed at the small child that lay bundled there, in yellow pajamas and a blue blanket.

She hadn't let Isaac sleep with them when he was an infant for fear he would become too attached to the treatment. When he went missing that festered within her. She'd let Solomon and Hannah sleep with them and occasionally even Sam still slipped in. Trust exchanged between all occupants as they slept in one another's embraces.

She leaned over the rail, gently slid her hands under his tiny body and pulled him up to the safety of her body before taking him back into the bedroom with her. She cradled him in one arm as he slept and she carefully slipped into bed with her husband. Olivia gently rested Drake between the two of them and stretched her arms out over Elliot's pillow, her hand lightly resting on the base of his skull as she curled her body protectively around the young boy and rested her hand lightly on Elliot's hip.

"You okay?" Elliot muttered.

"Yeah," she said softly, "is this okay with you?"

Elliot opened his eyes to see Drake resting contently between the two of them; he smiled softly, "Yeah… what made you decide to bring him in here?"

She licked her lips, stroked Drake's hair softly with her fingertips, "I thought… I thought our son should spend his first night home, with his parents."


	13. Reborn

Silver Lining

Chapter 12: Reborn

Sorry guys, had a little bowling accident that corrupted the finger which corrupted the typing which corrupted the story. Damn chain reactions.

The sun peeked up, just far enough for Elliot's eyes to flutter, his brows furrow in sleepy protest. He opened one eye lazily and then the other until his wife came into focus. She was sleeping next to him, a one-month old child that they'd just promised they'd raise as their own son slept safely between them.

Remarkably, as he propped him self up on his elbow and watched his wife sleep, her face was soft and relaxed. Amazingly, there seemed to be a calm about her features. Not the stress that was clearly etched on her face since Mr. Stockdale had visited them at their home. Not the anxiety that tainted her smile since she'd found those letters from Oliver that Elliot had hidden from her.

About that.

Elliot shifted his gaze to Drake and smiled seeing his tiny hand resting in Olivia's palm. When that happened, he wasn't sure, but whenever it happened it meant that Olivia had to be touching Drake, was probably whispering things to him while Elliot slept next to her. She was trying everything that she knew to do in order to build a relationship with Drake.

Maybe they didn't want a child under these circumstances, maybe Elliot would still love to see his wife pregnant, but seeing the two creatures next to him, sleeping as if their worlds hadn't just abruptly collided with one another's, sleeping as if this was how it was always supposed to be made never seeing Olivia pregnant again bearable and he knows one important thing.

He's not sorry he kept the letters.

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Olivia could feel the warmth of the sun bathe over her body. She knew it was time to wake up, but she didn't want to. She wanted to sleep, to rest next to her husband and the small child that she stayed awake through the night listening to breathe. He smacked his lips and clicked his tongue together just like Isaac had done when he slept.

And just like Isaac and Solomon and Hannah did at this age when she placed her much larger finger against their tiny palm… he gripped it and held on tight.

But, it was the sudden realization that he was not gripping her finger anymore and she couldn't hear his quick breathing that caused her to jerk awake and stare at the empty bed, void of husband and child. She sat up quickly, ran her hand through her hair and forced herself to calm down. Elliot must have had him. That was logical. That theory would not give her an ulcer.

She slipped out of bed, her camisole and panties her cover as she made her way down the hall before stopping at the kids' bathroom where a thin steady stream of water was flowing and Elliot's gentle voice was cooing a fussy child.

She didn't realize just how small Drake was until Elliot held him along his forearm, his large hand cradling Drake's head as Elliot gently washed his young body over the sink. "Morning," Olivia said softly from the door way, not sure if this was something Elliot wanted to do alone, not sure if something had happened. "He okay?"

Elliot looked up and smiled, "Yeah, he's good. Water pistol… didn't get the diaper on fast enough. Got to love the boys, Liv."

She grinned slowly and stepped into the bathroom as she handed Elliot a towel. Drake's arms and legs jerked at the absence of warm water the second the faucet turned off. Elliot smiled again, "He likes the water."

"Yeah?" Olivia peered down at Drake as Elliot balanced his wet body on his chest and wrapped the towel around his tiny form, "He'll definitely fit in then, huh?"

"Yeah," Elliot said as he cradled Drake in his arms, Olivia's hand wrapped around his waist as she leaned in and kissed Elliot's cheek softly.

She looked back down at Drake whose eyes were bright with curiosity. He seemed to focus on Elliot for a few seconds, then moved and searched the area for Olivia who was whispering to him. He locked his gaze on the woman that would become his mother and held it before looking back to the man that would be come his father. Drake's tiny chest swelled with air against the terry cloth, he clicked his tongue and exhaled. His game plan, sleep.

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Olivia took a step into the stream of the shower and exhaled. It felt good to take a shower. It would feel even better to have four children come crashing through the front door, their noise, their footsteps and their laughter.

Their expressions when they saw Drake.

She smiled to herself, quickly exhaled and rinsed her hair, Solomon and Isaac were gonna be so happy, another boy in the house for Isaac to teach peek-a-boo, and another boy for Hannah to pummel. Olivia turned the water off, stepped outside and wrapped a towel around her before suddenly stopping and a momentary panic flooding and shocking her system.

Sam would want to know what his name meant. He'd want to make sure Drake had four names. He'd want to make sure he had a strong name. Sam would never allow Drake to go through life without a strong name.

"You okay?" Elliot asked gently.

She jumped again and held tight to the towel, "I-I-I didn't hear you," she stammered, "where's Drake?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head, "What's wrong?"

She drew in her lower lip and shook her head softly, "N-nothing."

"Liv?"

"What's his name mean? Do you know? What's it mean?" she blurted and forgot to breathe out, "I mean… have we even thought about it? Does he have a middle name? Is Drake strong?" she shook her head, the bathroom suddenly starting to sway. She'd jumped into this too fast. She needed more time to take on something like this. No wonder it takes nine months for a baby to be born.

It takes nine months for the shock of pregnancy to wear off.

She needed nine months to figure stuff out. She had gotten, what? Nine days? A little more? "El," she swallowed, "Elliot, we've got to take him back."

Not so much as missing a beat, Elliot took a small step to her and gently cupped her cheek, "Don't be scared," he whispered and dropped his hand to her shoulder before resting his free hand on her other, his thumbs grazing her throat. "Breathe, Liv. Breathe. We took a big leap of faith yesterday. Just breathe."

He had to shake her before he felt her breath fall over his face. She took another breath of air and leaned into his body. She took in another deep breath, filled her lungs and swallowed before letting it out, "I'm sorry. I, uh… freaked out."

He chuckled softly and ran circles over her back where the towel remained open, "I freaked out this morning, too."

"Yeah?" she pulled back and looked at him, "Why?"

Elliot took a deep breath and smiled sadly, "I, I was trying to think of how we we're gonna get him situated and…" he shook his head, "I… I just, suddenly wished we had more time."

She looked at him and furrowed her brows, "El?"

"Hmm?" he whispered and pushed an errant strand of hair from her cheek.

"Do you think we made the right choice?" she asked softly.

He nodded gently, "Yeah. Yeah, I think we did. I mean… I think once the shock wears off and we get him settled in and the kids come home… I think one day we'll look back when Drake's older, when he's an amazing doctor or something and… we'll know we made the right choice."

She nodded softly and her eyes darkened with sadness, "And… if we're… visiting him in prison? Then what?"

He closed his eyes, cupped the back of her scalp and pulled her slowly to him and kissed her lips gently, before nuzzling his nose with hers, "Then," he whispered gently, "we'll still know that we made the right choice, by giving him a chance."

She exhaled against him and kissed him tenderly, "You know. Don't you?"

He ran his fingertips along her shoulder, back across her collarbone until he slowly tugged at the towel, wanting to see her perfect breast. Wanting to see the tattoo of Isaac's hand, "Know what?"

"The meaning of his name."

He kissed her again, sucked softly from her lower lip and nodded, "I do."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Please?" she whispered.

"No."

She pulled back softly and drew her eyes to his, "Please?" she asked again, her voice beginning to hinge on a small break.

He inhaled softly, "Do you remember that song you use to sing to Sam? The one about changing his name?"

"Yeah."

He licked his lips, kissed her lips again and rubbed the side of his nose against hers, "Let's change his name. He can be born tonight. He can be born to us, right now, today. You and I can bring him into the world today. Give him a new start. A new day."

"A new name?"

"Yeah."

She furrowed her brow gently and ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip, "I need to know, Elliot… what did it mean."

He exhaled, looked at her and knew he was gonna throw her into a tail spin, "Serpent."

She took in a shaky breath and swallowed, struggled to keep in tears. Was this an omen? "Sam… Sam would never let that fly."

He chuckled softly and felt the pad of her thumb wipe at a tear along his cheek, "I talked to Sam today, while you were showering. He wants to talk with Crystal. I talked to Casey and Alex and Don… told them they were new aunts, told Don he was a grandpa again and that Drake was small, probably still an infant size. Maybe a infant or one. Got to get good gifts, you know?"

"Elliot-" she smiled softly and shook her head, "I can't believe-"

"That they are willing to keep the kids so we can have a little time with our new son? So we can name him, hold him? Decide what were gonna do with the house?"

She sniffled and smiled gently, "They will?"

He nodded, "Yeah… I called Frankie."

She smiled, "Yeah?"

"Uh huh," he slowly pulled the towel away from her body and let his hand dip low on her waist, pulling her close to him, "I was thinking," he whispered and kissed her shoulder, "We can expand the house, move Solomon out of Hannah's room, Move a crib into Hannah's room… she'd like that, feeling like a big sister."

"Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

She cupped his cheek, moved closer and stroked the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue, "Where's Drake, right now?"

"I put him down on the couch. He's sleeping."

She nodded, kissed his mouth again, "Will you… make love to me? Right now?" she asked softly and slowly started to pull at the drawstring of his sweats, "He'll be born today. To us."

He pulled his hands up against her back, the friction of his skin against hers sending a shudder through her body, "He'll be born today, and we'll give him a new name," he nodded softly and traced a small path up her torso before drawing a slow and perfect circle around her nipple and kissing her again, "Do you have a name in mind?" he whispered and let out a small, grateful gasp as her hands slipped into the back of his sweats and caressed his body before pulling out and pushing the fabric off of his hips.

She pressed her body into his, laced her fingers with his and forced him backwards as her lips sought to cover his. He accepted her tongue, accepted its dominance and then its fantastic willingness to submit the instant he enveloped her body in his arms. "We made the right choice, right?" she whispered and hissed when she felt him settle against her body, hard and thick and ready.

"We did," he assured her, "We did and we'll make him ours, right now, Liv. Ours and only ours."

She held tight to his body and rolled him to his back, to the center of the bed and pressed her heat against his length, his chest rose even as she meshed hers with his and kissed his cheek, rolled her hips again and nipped gently at the lob of his ear, "Nathan… I like that name."

He pulled her bottom close against him, felt him self slide through her folds. They gasped together and he moved his hips against her again, "I thought you like Malachi… unisex."

She chuckled low against his shoulder, "I like that one, too."

He groaned, "Liv," his voice was tight with want for her, "please… let me hold you."

She pulled back, smirked, "Thought we were doing something else."

He grinned, pushed himself up into a sitting position, his back against the head board before pulling her back to him, his length throbbing to be inside of her, "This is what I meant," he whispered and helped to get her body even closer.

She smiled at him, slanted her lips over his mouth and kissed him tenderly as she reached for his hand and covered her breast with it. She whimpered into his mouth felt him pinch and roll her nipple between his fingertips, "Do you remember when I told you I was pregnant with Isaac?" she whispered and slowly reached between them and stroked him firmly.

"Y-yeah," he hissed, "Yeah, I do."

She kissed his mouth again and ran her nail along the underside of his shaft, "Do you remember when I told you… I wanted Sam?"

He licked his lips, thrust softly against her body, "Yeah… we we're standing outside in our pajama's."

She moved her hips against him, felt her body slide easily over his, "And Hannah and Solomon?" she asked and grabbed him firmly, moving his tip along her body from just above her clitoris over her sensitive core. She whimpered and he dug his fingertips into her hips smiling as she ran his tip in circles around her swelling core and then finally settled it at her entrance. "You remember when I told you I was pregnant with them?"

He moved his hips up. She raised up on her knees to stop him from entering, "Please, Liv."

She slid over him again, careful not to let him inside of her. She wrapped her arm around him, "Do you remember?"

He ducked his head to her breast, flicked his tongue over her nipple before sucking gently and letting go, "I remember."

Slowly, she eased her body down over him, her arms holding tight to him, "Then," she whimpered and her sob caught her off guard, "will you promise me, you'll remember this?" she asked and slowly pulled back coating him with her arousal before sliding down just a little further than before, "Promise me you'll remember when we made Malachi."

Elliot grinned, helped her work her way deeper over him, "Malachi? What happened to Nathan?"

Their bodies were flush against one another and she exhaled, her hands on his abdomen, "Jeremy," she whispered and moved slowly, "We could name him Jeremy."

He groaned feeling her grip him as she moved. She was warm and tight and felt as good as she has ever felt. He held her, thrust up inside of her gently and gasped, "Yeah. I like that."

She chuckled, "Somehow," she clamped her muscles and moved him deeper inside of her, "I don't think you meant the name, did you?"

He tossed his head back, "Liv… good," he moaned.

She smiled moved faster, her hips rotating in perfect, heavenly circles before suddenly moving upwards and slamming down, pulling him tighter and deeper inside of her before going perfectly still. "Promise me, Elliot," she pleaded as tears fell softly. She sniffled and rubbed her thumb over his naval, "Promise me you'll remember this, about him. Just like our other kids. Promise me you won't forget."

He wrapped his arms around her, cradled her as he moved delicately within her, her legs tightening around his sides, her hand at the nape of his neck, her teeth on his skin, "I promise I won't forget," he breathed and thrust gently into her, "I won't forget," he sobbed and moved, holding her hips as close to him as possible, "I won't forget," he told her again.

She cried then, broke in his arms with his body inside of hers. She cried and smiled at the same time as he built her up, tenderly. His hips moving just slightly, the tip of him producing a gentle murmur from her lips. "I love you."

He grinned against her, reached between them and stroked her as they moved. "I love you so much, Liv," he whispered and licked at the corner of her mouth, tugged softly at her bottom lip with his teeth before letting go and stroking her softly with his fingertip again.

She bucked against him, tossed her head back and groaned, her audible satisfaction echoing through their room, traveling the walls and slamming back into his hips. "Come for me, Liv. Come for me, baby," he growled against her.

She raised her head, the rush of blood warming her cheeks and breast, the feeling of him stretching her, reaching her and reassuring her caused her chest to heave, "Elliot," she groaned and pleaded, "now, please. Come with me."

He helped her slide her body away, only to pull it down fast and hard, his thumb finding her swollen center once more. She ducked her head, kissed him hot and bold on the mouth, her finger passing lightly over his nipple as they both came together. He did something he'd never done before as her muscles pulsed and milked him relentlessly. He rolled her to their sides, move his hips deeper and faster until she screamed out, biting him without care, her teeth sinking into the flesh of his neck as his hands roamed her side, pulling her even deeper onto him. He attempted another thrust, found his body had already given her all that he had. He exhaled, her breath mixing against his. Her mouth seeking his, kissing him.

Weeping with him.

She separated, kissed him softly before finding his ear, "Anan, I like the name Anan," she panted and kissed him again. "What about you?" she asked, her lips finding their way back to his mouth, her hands on his body. Roaming as they kept their connection, "Do you have a name?"

Elliot ran his hand over her face, his fingertips falling softly over her eyelids, her nose and lips, "I like Malachi… remind me what it means again."

She looked at him a moment of hesitation before propping herself up on her elbow, "If I remember from our last pregnancy, the meaning was, 'my angle'… I'd like to give him a name that makes all of the other stuff… pale."

He swallowed, thrust his hips forward and wrapped her leg around his hip, "Do you believe he's your angle, Liv? Do you believe that?"

She swiped her finger under her eye and gripped his length inside of her, gripped him and felt him respond to her body's request. "I think… If I speak it into existence… then one day… it'll be the truth. He'll be truth. He can be our angle, Elliot, our truth."

"There's a problem," he said softly and pushed her gently to her back.

She furrowed her brow, "What?" she asked in dread, "what, Elliot? Tell me."

He smiled, "I like the name Anan, too. I like Jeremy and Nathan and Jonathan," he whispered and punctuated each name with a gentle thrust of hips, "I like all of the names, Liv… but I want to give him a strong one too. I want that for him, too."

She widened the cradle of her body, cried out when he thrust against her again, her head falling back to the bed, "Elliot," she hissed and lowered her back, "don't forget. Don't let me forget," she panted and reached between them, grazing his sac gently, "Don't forget."

He dug his toes into the mattress, pressed his entire body as far as her body would accept him and held himself there, kissing her mouth, sucking softly on her tongue and lip, as she felt the nails of her hands dig into his flesh, her body writhing as she came under him, "I'm not forgetting anything. Nothing. Not ever."

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"We could put the crib in our room, until we get things figured out," Olivia suggested as she sat close to Elliot and drew up her legs on the sofa. She rested her temple on Elliot's shoulder and peered down at the newest addition to their family.

Elliot chuckled softly and tickled the small boy's foot, "You think you could keep that quiet when you come?"

She grinned and hid her face deeper into his body, "Elliot."

"Just sayin'," he teased, "you can't keep quiet. You almost got us in trouble in the diner."

She chuckled against him, brought his head closer to her and kissed his temple with a small smile, "It's your fault."

He beamed, his eyes bright, "I know."

They chuckled together as she rested her palm on the infant's belly, "Do you think… I mean, other than the skin tone, do you think when he gets older, he'll look like me? Does he look like me now?"

"You mean, is he gorgeous?" Elliot smiled and adjusted the baby to lay in Olivia's arms, "Yeah, Liv… he's a very nice looking boy. People will believe he's your's."

She adjusted him in her arms, peered down at trusting eyes, "Does that bother you?"

Elliot wrapped his arm around his wife, pulled her and child closer to him, "Liv," he chuckled, "None of our kids look like me… they've all got this blond hair thing going, except Hannah whose a mini version of you."

"Elliot," she looked up at him, adjusted her hold on their son and brought her free hand to his thigh, squeezing him softly. "They may not look exactly like you, but… they've got you down to a science," she grinned. "Isaac has your temper, Sam has your compassion, Solomon has your persistence and Hannah, well, Hannah has your rough and tumble… she'll punch anyone."

He chuckled softly, "It-"

"Solomon has your jaw line, Isaac has your eyes, Hannah has your ears… you're in all of'em, El."

He smiled, "I know… that's probably why they're so cute."

She cocked a brow, "Yeah. That's it. I'm sure."

He laughed and exhaled softly, "We made the right decision didn't we?"

She looked down at the new life and smiled, "Yeah. Yeah, we did."

"Do you think we got enough diapers at the store?" he asked. "He goes through pampers like you go through those condoms."

"Elliot!" she stared at him with mouth agape, laughter, bubbling over, "Stop."

"Stop? Stop what?" he feigned innocence.

She nudged him with her elbow, "Think the clothes will fit?"

"Yep," he grinned, "All my boys wear boxers. All of 'em."

"When I met you," she teased, "you wore tightie-whities, then boxer-briefs. Now you're just plane boxers, huh?"

"You don't like plain boxers?" he asked in genuine want.

She smiled, "Uh… you looked good in the boxer-briefs."

"You should wear a thong," he told her matter of fact, "or those undies that barely cover your bottom, yeah. Those would be good."

She chuckled and kissed him again, "Where are we gonna put him?"

Elliot caressed her cheek, kissed her tenderly on the lips and nuzzled his nose against hers, "In our hearts, Liv. Always in our hearts."

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"Do you think that this will work?" Olivia asked as Elliot adjusted the railing to the crib that Solomon had once used. He had attempted to bring in the crib that they'd used when Isaac was taken, but the look on Olivia's face told him that crib will never leave the shed again. Never.

He smiled to himself as the rail clicked into place, "Yeah, the crib is pretty sturdy and he's just a little guy, Liv. Probably what, eight pounds-"

"Elliot," she exhaled softly and sat on the edge of their bed, the crib only feet away until Frankie could come up with a plan for the house. "I mean… we've made the right decision, keeping him?"

He sat slowly next to her, kissed her temple and smiled against her skin, "You and I are gonna ask one another that question a lot, aren't we?" he chuckled softly and cupped her opposite cheek, a softer kiss placed on the corner of her mouth.

She cupped his elbow in her palm, leaned into his kiss and caress, "As long as we keep telling one another the same answer… we'll be good, right?"

"Right," he whispered against her and brought her softly to his chest.

She took a slow breath, "Tell me."

He stroked her arm gently, "We made the right choice."

"Yeah," she smiled softly and sat up to look at him, "that's what I was thinking, too."

He laughed and squeezed her gently before standing, "How about… you put the sheets on and I'll get him from the couch, let him sleep in his new crib."

She wrapped her hand around his forearm and stood, "Um… I'll get him. If that's okay with you?"

He grinned, "Yeah?"

She bit her bottom lip and smiled, "Yeah."

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Elliot had just finished adding another stuffed animal to the crib and smoothening out the small comforter before deciding that Olivia was taking longer than expected to simply bring a sleeping infant from the living room to their room. He made a final pass over the soft material of the blanket and finally let his wonder bait him into investigating her absence.

He'd stopped as soon as he'd seen her standing in the middle of the living room a small bundle of blue and yellow held safely in her arms. She was gazing down at him and for a moment, he'd never seen something more beautiful.

Olivia, though she may not have realized it was slowly becoming wrapped up in the little boy. Elliot knew that face, he knew that look. She bore the same look when she held Isaac, her eyes shone just as bright when Sam had come to stay with them and she held him as close to her as she held Hannah and Solomon.

She moved gently, swaying softly and bouncing him gently in her arms, her voice was soft, soothing as she ran her finger along his cheek and promised to love him, promised to keep him, not just in her heart, but in her soul. Right next to his brothers and sister. Right next to his father, Elliot.

But she also bore streak of worry that tugged at her lips. Perhaps that made her even more beautiful to him. To see her offer her love, to promise someone her love when she didn't know what the future held was amazing. It was proof.

She'd changed.

Irreversibly. Profoundly.

Changed.

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"He must be exhausted," Elliot chuckled as he lay next to his wife, both lying on their sides and keeping watch over the crib.

"From what?" Olivia laughed and tightened his hands around her waist, "All he did was eat today."

"That's not true," Elliot said, kissing her neck softly, "he nearly bankrupted us with the shopping trip and he pooped a lot. A whole lot."

She smiled wide and although he couldn't see it, he knew it was that smile that crinkled her nose and lit up her face. The smile that turned him on, but there would be no lovemaking tonight. The little boy that lay only feet from them wasn't the only tired Stabler in the house. Not to mention the fact that they'd already exhausted them selves earlier in the day. "The clothes put us over budget this month-"

"Liv, we are very successful, the gym has blessed us with the ability to do a lot more than what we'll ever do-"

"I know," she nodded and tapped her fingertips over his hand, "I know… just," she started to chuckle, "factoring in another college education."

"We'll be fine."

"We still need to be careful. No frivolous purchases and-"

"Hey!" he played hurt, "I love your frivolous purchases," he grinned and moved his thumb to swipe over her nipple.

She jumped and chuckled before swatting him, "Don't even think about starting something right now… the kids are gonna be here any second."

"Yeah?" he kissed her again, "which ones? Just the monsters? 'Cause they just think we wrestle a lot-"

She slapped his hand again, "All of them, Elliot," she grinned and rolled over to face him, her face still beaming, "Elliot… we have a baby, here. In our house, and he's ours."

He grinned, propped himself on his elbow and peered back to the crib, "He's amazing… and, you know there are gonna be times where you and I freak out, but… he's amazing."

She nodded, leaned in slowly and kissed him tenderly on the mouth, "I want to tell you a secret," she smiled, kissed him again and pulled back to look at him.

"I already know," he grinned.

She furrowed her brow, "You do? How? I never told anyone."

"Olivia," he took in a breath and exhaled. The makings of a very cocky grin evident, "I've known for a long time that once I'm inside of you, you can't think or keep quiet. I've known for a long time that once I'm naked around you… you are putty in my hands."

Her mouth dropped in shock, "Oh, shut up!" she laughed and playfully rolled over him, stretching over his body and grinning down at him, "That was the furthest thing from my mind."

"Liar."

"Okay, second furthest thing," she admitted. "Let me tell you?"

He grinned "Shoot."

"My placement at the one-six was a mistake."

He furrowed his brows, "What? I thought- I thought you wanted SVU?"

"I did," she smiled, "But I wanted it in Queens."

His face registered surprise, "Are you serious?"

"Yep," she licked her lips and smiled bigger, "but, I came to one-six, there was this open position, and… don't get me wrong, I saw John and I thought he might be my partner. I was gonna tell Human Resources there was no way."

"What changed your mind?"

She grinned, "You. You walked into the bullpen."

"You stayed… for me?"

Slowly, she nodded, "Yeah… I mean, it would have been SVU either way, but…you were icing on the cake. You made me stay there, the second I saw you."

He arched his body up, kissed her mouth as he tangled a fist of hair in his hand, they separated when the doorbell rang, followed by the door opening and the alarm being silenced.

"Mom!" Sam yelled into the house, "Mom! Dad! Where ya at?"

"Mommy!" Isaac tornadoed through the hall way, Hannah and Solomon running quickly behind.

"Mommer!"

"Daddy!" Hannah giggled as Solomon tumbled to his belly after a misstep and quickly stood grinning as his mother intercepted him and lifted him high into the air.

"Mommer!" he shouted in amusement, pointing down at her as his father closed the room to their bedroom and lifted Hannah into his arms as Isaac tugged on his belt, climbing up his legs.

"You'll hurt Daddy," Olivia scolded gently and balanced Solo as she helped Isaac into his father's arm.

"Hi mom, hi dad," Sam grinned from the beginning of the hallway, "were you resting?"

She smiled, wrapped her arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, "We were, yeah… Grandpa here?"

"Yeah, he brought Solo and Hannah. Aunt Alex was right behind us."

"And we're waiting, for you know what," Alex called from behind Sam, "Captain and I are waiting," she grinned.

"Alex," Olivia smiled and lowered Solomon to the floor before hugging her, "Thank you for giving us some time with him."

"With who?" Isaac grinned from his father's arms before lowering his head to rest on his chest.

"Rookie," Elliot bent his neck and kissed him gently, "how about we all play in the living room?"

"Wid Gand'pa?" Solo grinned, "He got no hair."

"Hey," Cragen chuckled and reached out for him, "you keep that up and I'm shaving yours off."

Solomon chuckled, "You wanna lookit Horace, Gand'pa?"

Cragen smiled softly, "In a second, I think mom and dad want to talk with all of you."

"But-"

"No butts," Elliot admonished with a smile, "let's go guys, give mom time with Aunt Alex and Grandpa."

"Grown-up stuff," Sam groaned, "no good can come of this," he smirked and helped bring the kids into the living room while his mother, aunt and grandfather walked to the back of the house.

He flopped on the couch and exhaled. Something was definitely up.

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"Wow!" Alex grinned as Olivia gently rest her young son in her friend's arms, "he's a tiny guy isn't he?"

Olivia grinned as Don stood behind Alex peering down at the sleeping infant, "He's a little guy, yeah. But, Sam was really little when we got him and look at him now."

Don chuckled, "Sam is huge."

"I know," Olivia smiled, her fingertips trailing the young boy's hair, "I've got another boy in my house… Hannah and I don't stand a chance against all of the testosterone," she laughed. "The boys run me ragged by the end of the day as it is… so much energy."

Don sidestepped both the infant and Alex and wrapped his arm around Olivia, pulling her into a hug, "Olivia… you did good, here."

She smiled softly, fell deeper into his embrace, "Thanks, Don… thanks for everything."

He separated from her but kept an adoring hand on the small of her back as he peered back to the small life in Alex's arms, "He's a good looking boy… looks like you even."

"You think so?" Olivia asked as the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

"Yeah," Alex chuckled, her fingertips tickling the youngster's foot, "look at these long toes."

"Hey, Benson?" Don smirked, "you gonna tell me the name of my grandson or what?"

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"We're gonna step out," Alex smiled at Elliot as Don shook his hand and congratulated him on the newest addition to the family. Both Don and Alex said one last good-bye to the kids who tried to put on their best pout faces and beg to know what was happening.

"Gand'pa!" Hannah stood up on the couch and leaned over the back of it as Cragen opened the front door.

He smiled at her and chuckled, "Yeah?"

"I get a kitty?"

"No." Elliot chirped in matter of fact.

Don smirked at Elliot and then made his way to a little girl that reminded him so much of one of his best detectives he couldn't help but offer her whatever she wanted. He kissed her cheek, "Don't worry about your father, Grand'pa Kegger's got it all under control… bye sweetheart," he said before giving one last kiss.

"Come on, Don," Alex grinned, "the kids will hold us down if we don't escape and now there is definitely enough of them to do it."

"What's that mean?" Sam furrowed his brow and smirked, "You wouldn't know something that we don't know would ya, aunt Alex?"

She smirked, "Sure you don't want to go to law school?"

"He's sure." Elliot chuckled as Solomon made his way into his father's lap.

Alex and Don offered one last goodbye before leaving.

"Where's your brother?" Elliot asked suddenly as he looked around and saw no sight of Isaac.

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Olivia furrowed her brows at the little boy whose large eyes locked on her face and followed her wherever she moved, fussed when she left his range of vision and instantly calmed when she returned with a fresh diaper. Alex and Cragen had extended their congratulations to her and for some reason, her first thought was not happiness.

She didn't give birth to him.

He was _his_ child.

She exhaled and groaned, sliding her index finger into his tiny palm, "Will you be patient with me?" she asked softly, "Will you believe me that I'll love you? Will you believe it even if I have my doubts?" she whispered to him as he grasped her finger and promptly tried to take it into his mouth.

She smiled softly, removed her finger from his grasp to finish changing him, "I'll take the fact that you want to eat my finger as a yes," she told him and gently wrapped him into the soft fleece blue blanket. She'd barely lifted him into her arms and turned when she heard the softest gasp from behind her. She raised her head to find her five-year-old son looking at her with large curious blue eyes.

"Hi honey," Olivia swallowed and smiled. She and Elliot had wanted to warn them ahead of time and let all of the kids see the baby. She didn't want to surprise them with something this new and big. She didn't want them to just stroll in like this and be shocked.

He grinned and instantly went to his mother, "That a baby, Mom?" he asked as he tried to pull at the blanket to get a view.

"Woaw, hold on. Sit down," she told Isaac and gently sat on the bed next to him. "Yes," she smiled down at her son whose blue eyes got larger and brighter by the second, "Want to see?"

Emphatically, he nodded his head until Olivia thought it would snap off, "Yeah!"

She laughed softly and maneuvered the cloth so that the tiny cherub-like face was exposed and all she heard from Isaac was, "Can we keep it?"

She smiled down at Isaac, leaned just enough to kiss his forehead, "Yeah, baby, we're keeping him."

He pulled back, his brows met his hair line and his mouth fell open in perfect happiness, "A brother?!"

Olivia nodded softly, "Yeah. A brother. How do you feel about that?"

In a flash, Isaac Stabler slid off of the bed, darting for the living room as soon as his small feet hit the floor, "Sammy!" he screeched as he barreled down the hall, "Sammy! We got a brother!"

"Well," Elliot called from the hall, "I think we know where Isaac was."

Olivia peered down at the baby in her arms and smiled, "You're already making people happy," she whispered and made her way down the hall where Elliot had both Hannah and Solomon on his lap as Isaac told them about his new discovery.

"It's like this, guys," he told them excitedly as he cradled an imaginary form in his arms, "and the baby is a boy!" he said with glee and promptly stuck his tongue out at his sister while he stuck him thumbs in his ear and wiggled his fingers.

"Ahhh!" Hannah crossed her arms and frowned, "Stinky!"

"You sure there's a baby in there, bro?" Sam asked softly, "A baby boy?"

"Yeah!" Isaac looked at him with bright eyes, "and mom says we're keepin'em!"

Sam licked his lips and sat on the arm of the couch next to his father, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Was that what the late night visitors were here for? Was that why we stayed the night somewhere else?"

Elliot was just about to answer when Olivia padded slowly into the living room with a small bundle of life in her hand and sat down on the edge of the couch across from her family, "Yeah, Sam," she said softly. "That's what it was all about."

He nodded, seemed to accept it and then smiled, "So… another boy, huh? You are so done, Mom."

Olivia laughed, "Yeah I know." She sighed a breath somewhere between hopeful and worried and looked around her family. Looked at curious eyes that grew larger each time the baby so much as moved a tiny finger. She looked. Then leapt.

"You guys want to check him out?"

"You maded a baby already?" Hannah asked as she moozied over to her mother and patted her belly, "You maded a boy baby all ready?" she asked trying to navigate around the infant to lift her mother's shirt and inspect her belly, "How? How you do dat?"

"No, honey," Olivia whispered softly and stroked her hair. "No… God gave him to us."

Elliot found his wife's eyes just as soon as she'd made the confession and while he's not sure what he thought he might find when he saw them, he was positive that he was surprised to see the conviction in her eyes. He was surprised to see the boldness as she told her daughter, her only daughter, that the life she held was a gift from God.

Elliot smiled as the kids gathered around their mother to giggle and peer down at the baby. The baby she held was the child of a rapist, he was the child of the man that raped his wife yet here she was in all of her redefined beauty telling their family that he was a gift from God.

"What's his name?" Sam asked as Solomon stuck his tongue at the baby and tried to gain a laugh.

"Mommer?" he tugged at her arm when he got nothing more than a curious stare, "Mommer, he browken!"

Olivia smiled, "No, he's not. He hasn't learned yet."

"I'll show him how to laugh," Isaac grinned, "and I'll show'em peek-a-boo so he can scare Hannah-"

"Hey!" Hannah flared her nostrils and waved her fist, "I punch you!"

"Hannah," Olivia smiled and kissed her forehead, "No punching right now, okay? The baby needs a quiet place to rest, he's had a long couple of weeks."

"How old is he, Mom?" Isaac chirped, "I'm his big brother, right?"

"Me too!" Solomon said before sticking his tongue at Isaac.

"Relax, guys… you are all his big brothers, and Hannah is his big sister," she assured them all. She was grateful they were this excited about having a baby in the house, she was grateful they weren't asking the rough questions like, where'd he come from? How come his real parent's didn't want him?

_Who_ were his real parents?

"What's his name?" Sam asked again, "It's strong, right? You gave him a strong one?"

Both Elliot and Olivia looked up at Sam, he'd been the only one that hadn't attempted to touch the baby, that hadn't made goofy faces or asked about the status of big brother. He wanted to make sure his name was strong. That's what he needed right now, because while Olivia and Elliot knew that Sam was more than happy having another little brother, there was something on his features that was not sitting right. Not at all.

"Sam?"

"Four names? You gave him four right? We all have four, he needs four, too."

Olivia smiled, "Yeah… yeah, we gave him four names. He's got a strong name."

Sam smirked, "Care to share?"

Elliot and Olivia laughed and she repositioned the baby in her arms so that the kids could see his entire diaper clad body, "Say hello to your baby brother: Abel Malachi Anan Stabler."

Isaac laughed, "Kindergarten will be hard for him… his name is long."

"I Hannah."

"I Solomon," Solomon grinned, "I big boy. Him little."

"Can I feel him?" Sam interrupted softly, "Can I hold him?"

"Y-yeah. Yes!" Olivia assured him and watched as he slowly sat next to his mother and The Monsters looked on in awe of their brother as he gently took Abel into his arms and slowly lowered his lips to Abel's forehead and kissed him delicately. It dawned on Olivia in that moment that since Abel had come to their home, that would have been his first kiss.

Elliot grinned from across the way and Olivia nodded for him to join them, to sit next to her as their children interacted with their new brother. He sat close to her, his hand resting on her leg as the other wrapped around her shoulders and the entire family, all six children and two adults stared in wonder at one another.

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"Sam wasn't gonna let him go for anything," Elliot whispered as he slipped into the bed next to his wife and pulled her flush against him.

"They seemed really excited about Abel," she said softly as she kept her eye on the crib just beyond their bed. "Do you think he minds a hand-me-down crib? Do you think we should have gotten him a new one? What about the clothes? And then there-"

"Liv? You're talking five thousand miles a minute… he's out like a light. What's wrong?"

She pulled his hands tighter around her waist, "Nothing."

"You're a rotten liar, Benson… spill it."

"There's nothing to spill," she protested weakly.

Deciding that they needed sleep he came up with a quick solution to make her talk.

He poked her ribs.

Hard.

"Oh!" She grumbled, "What was that for?"

"Talk… or I'll do it again," he smirked and tickled her side softly.

She laughed, rolling to her side and trying desperately to shield her exposed side and get away. He pulled her back, his strength always gaining. He pulled her back and tickled her harder, "Tell me!" he laughed, "Tell me or I'll do it until you wet your pants!"

She laughed even harder, his fingertips tickling her faster, her skin jumping at the contact and her eyes producing the fattest tears of laughter as she struggled for air, "Stop! You'll wake him up."

"I won't," Elliot told her with a cocky grin and flipped her to her back, "You will if you don't spill what's on your mind… I'm relentless, you and I both know it," he told her and cocked a brow for full effect. "Do or die, Liv." he told her and rested his hand over her ribs.

"Elliot," she struggled for breath and finally exhaled a deep breath gaining her bearings as she stared up at him. She was serious suddenly and it worried him. "El."

"What?" he whispered and pushed her bangs away from her face, "What? Tell me and I'll fix it. I'll fix it right now."

Perhaps he was too concerned with her well being in this particular moment to notice that her hands were moving. Slowly, but they were moving, "El," she said, her voice weak and timid.

He kissed her gently, wasn't aware that her knee had bent along the side of his body, "Tell me, it's okay."

She positioned her hands along his sides, bit her bottom lip to hide the smile that was forming and just before she lost her serious face, just before she let on that she was indeed up to no good, she flipped him to his back, eliciting a very caught off, "Uggh," followed by a laugh.

And suddenly he was at her mercy.

She tickled him. Relentlessly. She tickled him until his eyes were just as watery and glassy as hers and then she continued until he had no choice but to over power her and turn her to her back again, his body draping over hers. Pinning her. He laughed against her cotton camisole and grinned against her lips as her hands caressed his cheeks, "I love you," she whispered, "I love you in every possible way that I know how to. I love you."

His blue eyes danced only inches from her face and he nuzzled his nose against hers, a tender kiss on her upper lip, "Tell me," he whispered, "Tell me what you were thinking."

She licked her lips, ran her fingertips along his hair line, "Don't let me… don't let me ever give Abel second best… don't let me do that okay?"

He furrowed his brow, positioned himself to lay on the mattress but still cover her, "You wouldn't do that… why do you think you would?"

"I just," she exhaled, "I just… do you think it's okay that he uses Solomon's crib?"

"Liv," he said softly and took her hand from his face, kissing it gently, "the only reason why Solomon got a new crib was because you couldn't deal with Isaac's… and that's okay. It is. Hannah got one because two babies couldn't fit in one…it's okay that he's using Solomon's crib. We're not short changing him."

She exhaled. Nodded, "You're right."

He smiled softly, kissed her mouth, and teased the tip of her tongue with his own, "We missed Chloe's birthday party."

"I know," she nodded, "I was thinking of stopping by… maybe we can introduce her to Abel in a few days… when everything calms a little bit?"

He smiled, "Yeah… but for now, get some rest baby. Sleep well tonight okay?"

She nodded softly and positioned her body to mesh perfectly with his as he held her from behind, "We should have slept naked," she whispered just as sleep threatened to overtake her, "I like you close to me."

He smiled against her, "I like you naked," he whispered in exhaustion, "I like you naked and under me."

She grinned lazily as her eyes fought sleep and fought to focus on the crib. On Abel. On her son. "Will we be close?" she muttered.

"Hmm?" Elliot asked, absently kissing her neck, "I'm close to you right now."

"No," she laced her hand with his, "I mean Abel… I won't be able to breast feed him. There won't be that connection I had with the others."

He pulled her tighter, "You'll love him."

"How do you know?" she whispered keeping an ear trained on her son's breathing. "How do you know, El?"

"Because," he told her gently, "You already do."

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It was the sudden feeling that something was out of the ordinary that caused Olivia to wake up. She lay there, next to her husband, his smooth breathing now echoed by a much faster, much softer one in the distance. She allowed her self to smile before trying to mentally piece what had awoken her. She'd gone through a mental list that was compiled of each of her children but when there was nothing that she knew she'd forgotten, when there was no child begging to sleep in her bed because they were scared, she rolled to her side.

And discovered the problem.

Perhaps it was the new positioning of her ear, perhaps not, but now, just as soon as she'd tuned to her side, she heard it.

The hum of the living room television.

She ran her hand through her hair before looking back at Elliot who was sleeping. Content, the lines of worry and stress fading from his face as if life had suddenly dealt him a silver lining. She watched him carefully, her focus split between the commotion in the living room and her husband next to her.

She ran her knuckle along his cheek until she caressed him softly with her palm and bent low to kiss his forehead. The same forehead that only days ago was tense with worry and was now seemingly relaxed. She grazed her lips against his and in the distance of their humble master bedroom she heard their new son fuss and root for a better position. And then it occurred to her, just as she was walking to the crib to check on Abel that when God gave him to them to raise up as their son, when they chose to give them a new name and call him Stabler, it was because he was their silver lining. Amongst the clouds and darkened sky that plagued them the last few weeks, shone the brightest creature. The strongest creature.

Through all the grey shone Abel, a little baby boy that knocked Elliot and Olivia for a loop. A tiny infant that made them force them to believe wholeheartedly in one another least they fail in this mission to raise him to be loved, to be successful and completely innocent of anything that he came from.

A tiny boy that encouraged Olivia to want to go on beyond nephew and embrace son.

She leaned over the rail of the crib and smiled down at him, "Hey," she whispered and stroked his hair as he slept, his tiny limbs jerking in his sleep. "Whatchya dreaming about, hmmm? Giant bottles of milk?" she whispered and rubbed his small belly through his pajamas. She straightened herself and took a few steps away.

She stopped in her tracks the overwhelming need to confess things to him overpowering her. She made her way back to the crib to peer down at him, "I… I, well, Elliot and I-er- your father and I… we gave you a strong name. It's long and its complex and you're gonna hate elementary school… okay probably all of school, but… it's strong and I mean every part of it, okay?" she told the sleeping infant.

She stroked his cheek with her knuckle, "Every part of it, right down to you being my angle… maybe it's hard for me to see it right now, right this second, but… I will, I know I will. Be patient with me and I'll show you," she whispered to him and let her fingers run through his silky hair before following his arms to his tiny palm and letting her index finger rest there in his limp hand.

He took in a deep breath and exhaled smacking his lips in his sleep.

Olivia smiled, "Be patient with me Abel and I know I can fall in love with you. Be patient with me and… I know you'll be my angle just like my other little ones. You'll be just like them in my heart and soul… be patient. Deal?"

Maybe it was a coincidence, but she really didn't care, because when he wrapped his tiny fingers around her index finger she knew he agreed with her. He'd be patient with her. He'd be patient because he was a gift from God and all gifts from Him resulted in good no matter how long it took to see it.

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"Samuel?" Olivia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Son, it's one O'clock in the morning why are you up?" she asked and her eyes bulged when she saw what he was listening to on the television, "Samuel!" she squawked, "What are you doing?"

He visibly stiffened on the couch and swallowed hard, "Uh… listen-"

Olivia stared mortified at the television as a senior citizen woman held up a dildo and promptly began to explain its use and benefits to a caller. She darted for the remote and turned the television off, quickly suppressing shocked anger and sitting on the coffee table in front of him, "Samuel," she swallowed and she knew he was panicking with the way she responded to him, "Sam, I'm not mad, Son.. I'm just… why are you watching Talk Sex? I thought dad talked with you?"

He drew in his bottom lip and hanged his head, clearly embarrassed, "H-he did."

She nodded to the television as if he could see her, "Then what's with the AARP explanation?"

He furrowed his brows in confusion, "Huh?"

"Nothing," she smiled softly and propped her chin in her palm, "You keep growing," she said softly and tugged at his pajama pant, "these are too small."

"I know," he nodded, "but… there's another baby now, so money-"

"Will be in the bank when we need it," she told him softly. "Don't worry about money Sam, that's grow-"

"Grown-up stuff, I know… can I get new ones? Save these for Isaac?" he asked innocently.

She grinned, "I'm sure we can do something like that, sure… but uh, what's the deal with the television? You still have some questions? Was dad vague?"

Sam chuckled, "Dad is always vague," he said, then grew quiet. "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Dad wasn't vague… he just…" his voice trailed off and he exhaled, resting his head back on the couch.

"Sam?"

"Mom… Dad is Dad. He's, well he's a boy!" he told her in frustration and ran his hand forward and back through his hair.

Olivia grinned, "Thank goodness, or I'd really be up a creek, huh?"

His face twisted up in mortification, "Oh, mom! Gross!"

She laughed and swatted his leg, "Come on, be honest with me. What's wrong? Why are you so frustrated that dad is a boy?"

He exhaled, "'Cause… well, he could only answer the boy stuff, you know? He's not a girl and I need to know about the girl stuff too, don't you think?"

_Uh. Oh. _

She swallowed hard, "Um, well. I don't know if you're aware of it, but, uh… I am a girl… in case there was something you wanted to ask… like if your hair is cool or your-"

"Do you like it when Dad makes love to you?"

Her brows shot up, "W-what? I'm sorry."

He licked his lips, "Forget it."

"No," she shook her head and gathered her composure, "I'm sorry. You threw me off guard. Sam… you have to understand that, sex is something that is very personal and intimate, so when someone asks about it… well, it can be a little nerve racking but I promise I'm an open book. Ask and you shall receive."

He arched his brow, "Using the bible on me? Nice."

She laughed, "Look, you want chocolate?"

"No," he furrowed his brows in thought, "Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Did it hurt you the first time Dad made love to you?"

She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, "Um, not really, no."

"Dad says… the first time for a girl can hurt."

_My first time really did hurt, son. So much you wouldn't believe it. _

"My first time with your dad, didn't hurt me. It was a little bit uncomfortable, but… well, nothing that made me want to stop your father."

"Mom… when Dad kisses you, well, Dad says his body sometimes makes him have an erection-"

Her brows shot up. Just what was the rating on their conversation? "Okay."

"Does… does it scare you? When he kisses you and his body does that…does it scare you?"

She shook her head, "No. Not at all. It's natural."

"You're okay with that? With his body like that?"

_You have no idea how okay with it I am._

"Yep. Perfectly fine," she assured him. "I trust your father and he trusts me. I'm not scared of him. I know he'd always be good to me."

"He's soft with you? Like… you know, making love? He's a gentleman?"

_Gentleman Pirate._

"Yeah. Gentleman," she nodded, "What's with the curiosity with your dad and me?"

He exhaled in misery, "Crystal hates my guts."

"Really? Why's that?" she asked. "I mean… it wouldn't have anything to do with you being a jerk to her now, would it?"

"Mom! Whose side are you on?"

She grinned, "One more thing you should know about women… we're always on each others side."

"Uggh, girls are so complicated. This is ridiculous. Why can't she just know that I want to kiss her but I don't want to be inside of her!"

_Ex. Cuse. Me_. Her brows shot up and twisted into confusion, "Huh?"

"I really like her mom, but you know what? She's like the most stubborn person I've ever met. And you know what else? She cheated me on chess! Can you believe that! She tipped her king and told me she was in checkmate! What a sorry cheat! I had to study that board for days to figure out what she did! She cheated me!" he huffed and shook his head, "I vote no."

She smirked, "Sam… why do you think she tipped her king? Have you ever thought that maybe she's been trying to tell you some-"

Infuriated, he raised his voice at his mother, "Has she ever thought that I've wanted to tell_ her_ something!"

She calmly rose up from the coffee table and kissed his forehead, "I'll talk with you when you're calmer and more respectful like the boy I know," she whispered and moved to walk away.

"Mom, please?" he sniffled and held her hand. "Please, don't go. I'm sorry I yelled. I'm sorry."

She reclaimed her position, "I know your angry, but raising your voice at me is gonna get your rear end in a sling."

He exhaled and plopped back against the couch again, defeated, "Seems like that's all this rear end knows is the sling."

She smirked, "What's up? What do you want to tell her?"

"That I want to be her boyfriend, but only to hold her hand and hug her and walk her to class and maybe kiss her on the cheek, but the rest of the stuff… uggh, that's too much. That's confusing and I'm scared… I'm scared I'll always want to kiss her."

She smiled, "You know… I always want to kiss your father…. it's not a bad thing."

"It confuses me. Maybe-maybe I should talk to Mags a whole lot more before I kiss her again, like in the bathroom. Maybe I should… mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

She chuckled, "You mean this Spanish Inquisition was just a warm up? By all means, Sam… interrogate me."

He reached out and touched her covered abdomen, "When I was a boy, you said you were hurt. Like me… remember?"

All banter flew out the window and she rest her hand over his, "Yeah, Samuel. I remember."

He cried silently, almost stoically, "I don't ever want to hurt her mom. And… that's all I'm doing is hurting her, that's all I ever do. As soon as I open my mouth we're fighting."

She withdrew his hand and kissed it softly before enveloping it in the warmth of both of hers, "What are you asking me, Son?"

He exhaled, "If I," he drew in his bottom lip and chewed it before setting it free, "If I tell her about my grandfather… will she still want to be my girlfriend?"


	14. Cuffs

Silver Lining

Chapter 14: Cuffed

Sorry guys. This is the first chapter I've ever had a character drop the F Bomb.

Isaac Stabler hated Jordan Shultz. There was no question about it. He loathed him, detested him and wished he would choke on his paste or at the very least get the handle of his paintbrush stuck up his nose. Way up his nose. Isaac hated Jordan more than he hated the fact that he had to share his mother with one more baby boy, no matter how much he fought Sam to feed Abel just this morning.

Okay, maybe hate was too strong of a word, maybe the truth of the matter was that he was scared of Jordan because no matter what he did, no matter if he nailed his ABC's or knew his numbers like his father knew every inch of his skin, he knew Jordan would pick on him.

No. Hate _was_ an appropriate word because the very thought of going to school today, with the glasses that his mother was finally able to pick up from the doctor's, was going to mean Jordan Shultz was going to be what his dad called a _prick_. Isaac may not know exactly what a prick is, but he knows that when someone acts like Jordan does to his mom or dad, his dad always mutters the word prick and his mother always scolds him.

Isaac crammed his hands in his jeans and suddenly wished he was bigger as he stood outside of his classroom door. He wished he was bigger so he could go to school with Sam and not worry about pricks like Jordan because Sam would protect him. He wished he was bigger because instead of standing in front of the door to the classroom, he would be allowed to cross the street without his mom's hand and that would mean he could leave the school.

He could leave Jordan-The-Prick.

Isaac exhaled deeply, he was late today and he had a crumpled up tardy slip shoved in his pocket, his fingers were absently playing with it as he leaned his forehead against the door and moaned in frustration. Man he hated Jordan-The-Prick. Maybe he'd get lucky and Jordan would have gotten sucked down the toilet like Kermit did, or maybe Jordan's dad wouldn't be able to get rid of the monster under Jordan's bed and he'd get eaten. Alive.

Maybe one day Jordan would be in a dark place where he could only hear and never be able to play. Where he'd always be hot.

Isaac stood a little straighter and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his mother had told him that he looked like a man in them, that his eyes were still amazing and that he looked extra sharp.

Solomon pointed at him and cried.

Hannah thought they were down right funny.

Sam told him to quit whining and be thankful he could see.

His dad told him he was the most good-looking boy he'd ever seen.

But no matter what his brothers and sister said, no matter what his mom and dad told him, no matter how cool he thought he looked in the mirror, he knew one thing was certain.

Jordan was a prick.

Jordan was gonna pummel him or at least call him every stupid name he could think of and once that happened he wouldn't be able to control his temper that his mom says he gets from his dad. Nope, he wouldn't be able to walk away or ignore him like Aunt Alex tells him. He wouldn't be able to do it and for that reason he knew without a shadow of any five-year-old doubt that he was going to go to time-out sometime during the day.

He was going to go to time out, where he would get super scared and his heart would feel like it was gonna go right through his Spiderman shirt and splat right on Kelly-The-Nose-Picker's desk. He was going to go to time out, where his body would forget to breathe and everything would go to black… just like he remembers it used to be.

Black.

Just like in the dreams that scare him the most.

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"You're in my seat," Crystal said flatly as Samuel bowed his head and chewed his lip.

"I know," he said softly while students shuffled around the classroom, each person trying to get to their seat, trying to wedge past Crystal who was standing impatiently in the middle aisle her anger clearly written on her face and although Sam couldn't see it, he could feel it.

He could feel it roll off of her in waves.

"I… you're my science par-"

"No, Sam. I'm not," she snapped, "I'm not _you're anything_, remember?"

"That's not true!" he answered so quickly he sounded angrier than anything else, and slapping his palm on the black table top didn't help his cause much.

"You know what?" she shifted on her feet, her back pack clearly adding weight to her small frame, "You're an ass, you don't care about anyone but your self and I'm done with caring about you, Samuel. I'm done with you thinking you own me like I'm some stupid audio book of yours that you can use whenever you want"

"Crys-"

"You know what you can do?" she growled and shoved his shoulder hard, not caring as his body nearly fell out of the blue plastic chair, "You can go to hell and get out of my seat on the way there!"

"Excuse me?" The teacher finally spoke up, Sam and Crystal both suddenly aware that all commotion in the classroom had ceased and all focus was directed at their squabble, "I was just wondering," the teacher continued, "if your conversation was more important that my teaching?"

Sam exhaled and cleared his throat, "I want this table. It's mine."

If he could see the look on Crystal's face he'd know she was about ready to strangle him right where he sat.

"Crystal," the clearly agitated teacher pointed to the empty seat next to Sam, "it's never been a problem before. Take a seat."

"But, mist-"

"Take a seat!" he commanded more firmly, "You may choose to sit there, in the only available seat, next to Mr. Stabler or you may choose to sit in the principal's office, but whatever the choice is, you will be sitting. Is that clear?"

She took in a breath, flared her nostrils as she pulled her bag off of her back and dropped it to the floor, "Move over," she grumbled, "you're in my seat."

Sam smirked, slid into the chair next to the one he'd just occupied and scooted up to the table. He was next to her and no matter how dangerous that proximity was, he was there.

And she was on beyond pissed.

The teacher turned back to the dry erase board and began his lesson and Sam leaned over to Crystal, purposely taking in the scent of her hair as he whispered, "Can you take notes for me? Apparently, I'm blind."

Without missing a beat she replied, "Can you bite my ass? Apparently you're a bastard."

His face fell slack. She was such a sailor sometimes. His thin brows raised, his jaw parted and he slowly leaned back into his chair. Stunned. She was an iron curtain and he was so dead. But, he and his mother had talked about this, just last night. They'd talked about his anger with her because he expected her to be a mind reader. He expected her to know that he wanted to be her boyfriend but only wanted to walk her to class and be with her.

Never to be inside of her. Never to hurt her.

His mom had been open with him and he knew how uncomfortable it was for her, he heard it in her voice, he knew it when her breathing got more shallow, grew faster. He knew it when he felt the nervous heat radiate from her body. There were other questions he wanted to ask her, questions about how she was hurt, why she was hurt, who hurt her. He wanted to ask her questions about her because he wanted to know that he was still okay.

Because his mom was perfect.

And if his mom was still perfect, after someone had hurt her, then there was hope for him, wasn't there? If his mom could make love to his dad and not be scared of his body or scared of being hurt or hurting someone, then he could be okay, couldn't he? He could have a normal brain. That was possible.

Wasn't it?

He wanted to ask her so many things about the scars that are on her body, but he knew somewhere deep inside of him that while the questions about making love made her nervous, the questions about being hurt like he was, would torture her.

Which brought him back to square one. Hurting someone.

He licked his lips and leaned over, intruding on her personal space again, "My mom says I should talk to you."

"That's fantastic. I'm glad you're such a mama's boy Samuel," she hissed, "I'm glad you listen to mommy so damned much!"

He cocked his brows, pursed his lips and leaned back into his chair. This, getting back on good terms with Crystal was so difficult. He took a deep breath, tried plan 'C', "I'm close to my mom, that doesn't make me bad."

Rule number one when engaging in verbal combat with pissed off girl. Do not attempt to defend self.

She scowled at him and pushed his books sloppily to him, "Just shut up because every time I hear your sorry voice I want to punch you in the head."

"Nice Crystal, that's really great," he snipped.

Rule number two when engaging in verbal combat with pissed off girl. Do not attempt to antagonize said-girl.

"I swear Samuel," she whispered in anger and picked up her pencil, "I feel like shoving this pencil right up yo-"

"I love you," he snapped and slammed his hand back on the desk as he stood, his chest large and full of angry breaths as the class stopped, and the teacher turned to face the two students who dared disrupt him again, "I do!" he shouted and felt around the table for his things. "Maybe one day, you'll get your head out of your ass long enough to figure out that all I want to do is talk to you, damnit!"

"Mr. Stabl-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Sam hollered so forcefully, Timothy Dasda who sat two rows back gave a startled 'woaw'.

"Sam-" Crystal reached out to touch his forearm, surprised when he pulled away and stormed past her without regard to the class, the teacher or her. He had the advantage of not being able to see anyone as he angrily walked out of the room, she on the other hand had the unpleasant experience of having all eyes on her as soon as he left.

The teacher looked at the door as it slowly clicked shut and then drug his eyes to Crystal. He's seen them operate together, he's noticed their relationship has been strained but hasn't figured out why. His goal was indeed to have them sit together. His goal was not to push the Stabler Boy to the edge, "Crystal, uh," he looked back at the door, "Why don't you, uh… take him his cane?" he said almost apologetically as he motioned for the folded white cane on the black table top, "Take the hall pass, please."

She exhaled, stood and slung her back pack over her shoulders again and reached for his cane with her right hand has Spencer, the boy who sat directly in front of them and had a huge overbite snickered at her. She grabbed the cane, walked past him and socked him square in his arm, "Piece of shit," she muttered and simply kept walking.

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Isaac wondered how long the tardy passes were good for. A whole day? A whole hour? How long was an hour? Was that until lunch time or carpet time? What did the stupid note say anyway? He pulled it out, still standing only inches from the door of his classroom and smoothened it with his chubby fingers. Looked like nothing but scribbles and letters with a few numbers. Did the scribble tell Mrs. Gray what happened? Did it say that he heard dad yell in the nighttime like maybe there was a scary man in his closet that mom couldn't see. Did it say that Sam got him and The Monsters up while mom talked to dad behind a closed door?

Maybe it said that he was late 'cause he stopped and stayed by the door when he heard his father crying and his mother trying to sooth him. Or maybe it told Aunt Alex that he was being bad and fought with Sam to feed his new baby brother even though he knew his parents already had a long night and he shouldn't be adding a long morning to them either.

He was so intent on staring down at the pink tardy slip that he never heard the sounds of his classmates lining up on the other side of the door. Isaac was so pre occupied with his parent's long night, with his father's sad eyes this morning and with the fact that Jordan was on the other side of the door that he never heard Mrs. Gray, his aunt, step to the door.

His little body didn't stand a chance when the door came swinging open, instantly colliding with his body, his little nose scrunching against the cool metal, his primary teeth cutting into his upper lip just before his neck snapped back and Isaac Stabler's body tumbled backward, his empty Spiderman back pack his only cushion to land on as his glasses skidded along the linoleum and he felt the wind being knocked out of him.

"Isaac!" Alex moved quickly and kneeled next to him, "honey, what-why were-I'm sorry. I didn't see you!" she said frantically and soothed her hand through his hair, "Isaac, are you okay?"

He felt his chin quiver, felt the sting of his nose that caused the watering of his eyes. He tasted the blood from his lip and felt it pulse. He wanted to cry and he was gonna do just that. He was gonna suck in a huge breath and lean into his aunt's body and cry 'cause he was startled and hurt and he wanted his mom or dad and his aunt was the next best thing. He wanted to cry but in an instant he knew he couldn't.

Cause he heard Jordan-The-Prick, "Hahahahah! Look he's gonna cry! Isaac is a cry baby! Isaac is a crybaby!" he sang and pointed.

"Am not!" Isaac shot back and wiped his nose and bloody lip with the back of his hand.

"Jordan!" Alex scolded, "That it enough!"

"Cry baby!" Jordan stuck his tongue at Isaac.

Isaac gathered his bearings and stood to his feet, "Shut up! Stupid booger eater!"

"Isaac," Alex rested her hands on his shoulders and looked at him with a sad smile, "honey, it's okay to be upset. It's not okay to act like him, though… why don't you get those glasses and we'll get you cleaned up so we can head to the library, huh?"

Isaac chewed his bottom lip, his curly hair disheveled from his fall, his blue eyes glassy as a small line of blood trickled from his lip, "Kay," he whispered sadly and moved to retrieve his glasses.

"Hahahahah! Four eyes! Four eyes has glasses and still hit the door! Hahahahaha!" Jordan piped in again.

"That's it, straight to time out…now!" she told Jordan who jumped at her voice and immediately retreated to the time out station as she gathered Isaac, "You okay, honey?"

Isaac looked to make sure Jordan was far away from him and he sniffled shaking his head yes even as his small chest took in a ragged breath and he began to cry. His new glasses hanging in his hand at the side of his body. Alex kneeled in front of him again, "Me and your aunt Casey eat kids like him for supper," she whispered with a small smile and stroked his cheek softly. "I love you."

He leaned into her, his face in her shoulder as he cried against her, "I don't like him. I got glasses and I can do my letters now, but I don't like him. I want to beat him up."

Alex smirked and rubbed his back softly, "I'm really glad you didn't pulverize him," she chuckled and pulled him back gently as she tickled his sides.

He laughed through his tears, a smile tugging at his lips, "I coulda. I'm super strong like my dad!"

Alex grinned, kissed his cheek, "Let's keep our hands and feet to ourselves and get you ready for the library."

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Olivia watched him in her office as he peered out of the window, his gaze directed at the gym floor as if assessing what was truly going on, but she knew Elliot wasn't actually looking, he was taking a break from reality, taking a break from what was in front of him. And she couldn't blame him. He'd woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, he'd yelled so loud that he not only woke up Olivia immediately, but Abel had been startled awake as well.

Elliot had been gasping for breath next to her and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, her lips at his temple, she'd assured him it was only a dream, that he was okay. She'd rested her hand on his chest, even as Abel began to fuss more, his sleep disrupted. She felt his heart rate and cringed at its speed. Entirely too fast. She whispered in his ear as he continued to pant, his skin clammy against hers. She whispered that she loved him, that he was okay, that he was there with her and that White was dead. Because there was only one thing that made him bolt up in bed like that. There was only one thing that controlled his body like that.

White.

She had been a little shocked when Elliot instantly stood and went to the crib, scooping up Abel in his arms and gently swaying with him in the dark night of their room. She was amazed at what happened before her eyes, amazed at the calm that consumed both Elliot and Abel as scared father looked down at startled son. She made her way to both of them, wrapped her arm around Elliot's waist and peered down at Abel, peered down at the little silver lining in Elliot's dark night.

She closed the door slowly and softly behind her and flipped the light switch to her office casting the room dark save the pale illumination of the gym lights that shone through the large window. She licked her lips and closed the space between them with careful strides before slipping her arms around his narrow hips. She felt his body jump slightly and she kissed him through his tee shirt as if it would calm his body and to her surprise, it did.

She held him there, in the silence and the pale darkness and allowed her thumbs to rub softly along his abdomen over the cool cotton of his shirt. She held him and let time pass until his body slowly leaned into hers and the tension crept out of his muscles, "It was a dream," she whispered and kissed his shoulder, "It was a dream, we're all here."

Elliot shook his head and exhaled, "It was real, Liv… I felt it in my body."

Olivia pulled her arms tighter around her husband, "Feel me," she whispered and kissed his shoulder. "Feel my lips," she told him softly and pressed them against the strength of his neck as she slowly slid her hand under his shirt and grazed his abs with the flat of her palm, "Feel me and know it was just a dream. That I'm right here, with you."

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Hannah Stabler is roughly three feet tall but she's a very strong three feet. She holds a dazzling smile and is queen of the day care center in the gym that she is well aware her mommy and daddy own like they own the house she sleeps in. She is also very aware that her daddy didn't give her his standard kiss where he loops his fingers in her pony-tail while she eats her breakfast.

While she sat in her car seat, sporadically punching Solomon in the arm for the sole purpose of seeing his mouth drop open in shock and pain, she had become aware of one other thing, her daddy, for some reason was very sad. Sad enough that he hadn't been the one to clip her into her seat like always and he hadn't made funny faces at her as he drove the giant car. In fact he hadn't even drove the giant car. Her mommy had and for some reason her daddy had kept his head bowed even as her mommy had held his hand to whole entire way to the gym so that she and Solomon could play all day long and tell everyone they had a new brother.

"I go see my daddy?" Hannah asked, raising large brown eyes to the day car employee that she normally loved to be with, "I go?" she asked again and pointed to where she knew their office to be. Up and over there.

"Oh, I don't know," Nicole smiled and kneeled in front of her. "Your mom called just a few minutes ago while you were playing with Jimmy and you know what?"

"I amazing!" Hannah grinned and rested her palms on Nicole's shoulders, "Mommy tellded you that?"

Nicole laughed, her long brown hair falling back, a perfect row of white teeth showing as her eyes registered complete happiness with the toddler, "Yeah, that's true, but your mommy also said that she has someone really important in her office and can't have any visitors…. especially super short ones."

"Hey," Hannah drawled out, "I amazing! I go see her."

"No, not exactly," Nicole grinned and re-directed little Hannah back to the small group of toddlers playing with various toys on brightly colored mats.

"But-but," Hannah stammered and refused to move.

"Come on Nanah!" Solomon grinned and threw a brightly colored ball at her, inviting her to play with him.

The ball rolled to her and stopped at her tiny pair of white and pink Addidas, that looked like her mom's and then a perfectly constructed plan unfolded.

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"Stupid school." Sam muttered and slammed his locker door shut, "So retarded," he groaned and slammed his fist into the metal. Deciding he rather liked the release he slammed the opposite fist into the locker… then the previous one…. then the opposite until his hands burned and throbbed and all that was left was for him to scream in frustration and anger.

"Hit it again," a small voice from behind made him still immediately, "I'm not sure that dent is large enough."

"Get away from me," Sam ground out in frustration, "You hear me, Crystal?" he growled and turned so he faced her voice, "You get away from me!" he demanded, so coated with anger and hate that she finally understood that enough was enough. She'd been far too hard on him. Again. Yet no matter how much she wanted to forgive him and be his best friend again, no matter how much she wanted to tell him that she was scared of more surgeries and scared of never having another friend like him… she couldn't.

She took his cane and slammed it into his chest not caring about his air expelling as the loud thud was produced, "With pleasure," she hissed and blew passed him, purposefully slamming her shoulder into his.

That part was on purpose.

The part where he tumbled to the ground and slammed the side of his head against the locker was not apart of her equation. She stopped and turned immediately just as soon as she'd heard him gasp in surprise that he was loosing balance. Her arm wasn't fast enough though, not fast enough to grab for him. His rough chlorine-dried hand tried desperately to grip her arm just as soon as he felt it, but he was far too startled to get a proper hold. He heard his name screamed from her lips just a split second before he felt the impact of the locker against his head.

"Ahhh!" he groaned from the floor, holding the side of his head before rubbing his fingers together to check for moisture that would indicate blood. Nothing. "You tryin' to kill me?" he screeched in anger.

"If I wanted to kill you," she grumbled and helped him sit on the linoleum, "I'd of done it the first time you let me beat you in chess."

He snatched his hand away from her and leaned against the lockers, his knees drawn up tight to his body, "Leave me alone. You're gonna end up killing me."

She squatted low and carefully ran her hand over his head, "There's no blood," she said softly and exhaled. "Whose killing who, Samuel? I'm not out to hurt you, but the last months… that's all you've done to me and it's not fair," she told him and stood slowly still starring down at him, "What happened to you, Samuel? What has made you so angry and so mad all of the time?"

Sam swallowed, furrowed his brows, "I have a new brother."

Her hazel eyes widened in shock, "What?"

"His name is Abel," Sam whispered softly and wiped a stray tear with the back of his hand.

She took in a breath, let it out slowly, "So… you have a brother and that makes it okay for you to be pissed off at me for months? That doesn't make sense."

Sam licked his lips, shook his head and slowly stood, bending to pick up his things, "I'm sorry," he said softly, and began to walk away, "I never wanted to make you sad," he told her and brushed past her.

"Well," she turned and watch him leave in anger, "you sure do a shitty job of not trying."

He exhaled, stopped and hanged his head, his hand running forward and back through his hand, "What do you want from me?" he shook his head, "What do you want, because really… I don't have anything Crystal, my heart is black and angry and I don't know how to tell you why it's that way… so what do you want from me?"

Crystal sniffled and slowly closed the gap, standing beside him, her hand hesitantly closing over his, "Ditch with me."

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Isaac Stabler remembered a time, somewhere between a new episode of Spongebob and an old episode of Transformers that Sam had told him about the coolest thing in the world, he'd told him about sharks. Sharks, big giant fish that went around the ocean and ate the little fish.

He wished a big giant shark would come and eat up Jordan.

But, because his brother was blind and couldn't give Isaac a proper description of a shark, his brother had told him to go to the library and look for a picture book on it. And today was library day and even though he had a Kleenex strip shoved up his right nostril and his lip was split, he was happily walking along the aisle of the small elementary library looking for the letters

S-H-A-R-K because that was what Mrs. Gray had written on the index card for him to match it to the books.

Isaac squatted low to brows through the books, his finger running along the spines of the books. He looked at the index card, memorized a few letters and looked back to see if they matched. He loved it really, the books and pictures and new things he got to see inside of the books. What he looked forward to the most, was learning how to read so that one day, instead of Sam reading Braille to him, Braille that didn't have pictures; Isaac could read to Sam. He could read anything to him, maybe a Clifford The Big Red Dog, that had pictures and a good story. He could do that for his brother 'cause he was a big boy that's what Sam told him.

He looked forward to reading to his brother.

Isaac let his small hand continued to run along the spine of the books as he crouched, a blue one, a red one, another blue one and then, with a smile on his face he looked back at his index card the letters so clear and sharp with his new glasses that he let out a small chuckle to himself and looked back to compare the letters he found on a blue spine, S-H-A-R-K. Too cool.

With a grin, he pulled the book from the shelf and stood slowly as he opened it and let out a small gasp as he looked at a picture of a large Great White shark bursting through the oceans surface, snagle teeth visible, mouth agape and charging for a large piece of chum hanging from the aft of a fishing boat. "Cool," he murmured and moved to turn the page, but was promptly stopped.

"Four-eyed-stupid-head."

Jordan-The-Prick.

Isaac furrowed his brows at Jordan. Why was he so much bigger than Isaac? Aunt Alex had told him that sometimes kids have to stay in the same grade more than once. That was what they were going to do to him if he couldn't do his letters. But, now he had glasses and he could see and he could do anything, that's what Sam told him. He could do anything.

"Gimme that book, cry baby!" Jordan demanded and stood closer, seemingly towering over Isaac.

Isaac swallowed, pushed his gasses up the bridge of his nose, "It's mine," he protested weakly, "I found it. Not you."

"I said," Jordan took one more step, forcing Isaac into a wall of books, "give me that book! I want it. Now!" he demanded and promptly shoved Isaac's shoulder.

"Lemme alone," Isaac said softly because mom says you should always tell the person to get away before you pummel them. Give them a chance she told him.

"Look cry baby, I want that book. Give it!" Jordan told him and pushed his shoulder again.

Tell an adult. That's what Sam told him. Tell an adult and they'll fix it. But don't hit. That's not what black-belts do and so far, Sam was one belt away from being a black-belt so he knew what to do to get a bully away, "I'm going to tell Mrs. Gray that you're being mean to me. Get away from me."

"Ooooh," Jordan mocked him, "I'm gonna tell the teacher. Stupid butt head!" he growled and stepped closer.

Mom had taught him a few things to keep Sam on his toes. She'd taught him a few things even at five-years-old just because he would beg her to show him something. He'd beg her to show him what Sam knew and as a result Isaac griped the book by its side and looked around the library for Mrs. Gray. His aunt. He didn't see her, then again her couldn't see over the book shelf. "I'm gonna hit you Jordan. Get away from me."

Warning. That's what his dad told him. Warn the poor guy before you destroy him.

Jordan took one last step effectively forcing Isaac's hands to stay between them. He had stinky milk breath and dried boogers on the rim of his nose. His mom must not of looked at him like Olivia checked her boys before they left the car. "Ooooh, I'm so scared of the cry baby."

Isaac's nostrils flared and while he may not have been able to extract his hands from the space that no longer existed between them he could do one more thing. "Get away from me stupid."

"What'd you call me!" Jordan snapped and raised his closed fist.

Isaac forced his five-year-old body forward effectively charging Jordan backwards with a loud growl, his shoulder digging into Jordan's body and pushing him back as Isaac's feet dug into the carpeting and helped him propel his body. He had a death grip on his Shark book as Jordan let out an "Umph" and began to stumble backwards in a panic.

The problem was, Jordan was so big he wasn't going down.

Quickly, Isaac let go of the book with one hand and pushed off of Jordan to straighten up, "Leave me alone dookie breath!" he demanded and to Isaac's chagrin, Jordan was coming back for him and apparently- Isaac had pissed him off.

Time out was gonna suck.

Isaac grabbed the hard-covered book with a hand on each side and swung it from his side, full force, a grunt of hard work and might escaping his lips until the book collided with Jordan's face sending it snapping in the opposite direction until his body had no choice but to follow and collapse on the floor. Isaac raised the book over his head in preparation for one more blow but suddenly felt one arm around his waist, one arm yanking the book out of his hand as his feet left the ground and he was immediately pulled away from Jordan.

By Aunt Alex.

Uh oh.

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"Where are we?" Sam asked in nervousness, "Come on Crystal, we're supposed to be in third period."

"Stop whining, Sam. You and I are gonna talk even it kills the both of us."

"If my mom finds out I'm not in school that is exactly what I'm gonna be. Killed," he told her and continued walking down the unfamiliar sidewalk until he heard an aggressive car horn blaring, tires screeching and felt Crystal's hands pull him from behind and immediately against her body.

She felt amazing against him.

"SAM!" She screeched as soon as he was safely on the sidewalk, the driver of the car hollering obscenities. "I'm sorry," she cried against her friend, forgetting about the irate driver. "I'm sorry. I forgot to warn you we were gonna cross."

He hadn't been able to see a car.

But he wasn't afraid either. Her arms were around him. Protecting him from something he couldn't see and he knew right then and there that he wanted to marry her. He wanted to always be like this. Her hands so tight against his body, her scent always this close. He'd do anything to have this. To always have this.

"It's okay," he assured her, "it is. I'm okay, you're okay. We're good… I just need to know where we're going. I don't walk around much in the city. I don't know the smells and sounds as much as I should. I'm sorry."

She turned him around and wrapped her adolescent arms around his swimmers shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He was holding her, his hands around her waist, his lips near her ears telling her everything was okay and she knew, even at thirteen that she'd always want him. Only want her friend, the smell of him, the touch of his timid hands that she knew one day would become confident. She wanted this and then she remembered.

Samuel didn't want her.

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Hannah Stabler knew what she was about to do was wrong. She knew her mother would flip her lid and she would probably have a very very very long time out. She also knew that hitting Solomon in the face with a ball probably wasn't the nicest thing in the world.

Which made her plan all the more glorious.

"Solo! Lookit!" Hannah said loud enough for Nicole to turn her head and look at the interaction Hannah was partaking in. And just when Solomon and Nicole were looking at her, just when she knew she had Nicole's undivided attention and Solomon had happily walked close enough to her she executed her plan.

She launched the ball, both hands over her head exerting all of her force and effectively nailing Solomon in the face. He crumbled to the floor holding his nose. "Nanah!" he screeched and began to cry.

Nicole moved quickly, kneeling next to him and wrapping her arms around him, "You're okay… it's okay. It was a soft ball, you're fine big boy," she soothed and turned immediately to tell Hannah she was so busted, but there was a problem.

Hannah wasn't there.

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"It's okay," Olivia said, positioning herself behind Elliot on the couch in her office, "it's okay. Lean back, I want to do this for you. Let me."

He took in a deep breath and leaned back moaning the instant her hands caressed his shoulders, digging into his stress and anxiety and slowly working it out; taking it into her hands and kissing it away with her lips, with her touch. "I'm sorry, Liv," he whispered and caught her off guard, her hands stopping immediately, her brows furrowing in confusion.

She rested her lips at his ear, barley grazed his lobe with slightly parted lips, "For what? It was a dream. You didn't do anything."

He shook his head, reached behind him for her hand and held it over his shoulder as he let his fingertips rub lightly over her wedding ring, "For not coming back to you fast enough, Liv. I'm sorry."

She squeezed his hand gently and then wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her as she kneeled on the couch between him and the couch's arm. She held him tightly, as tight as her arms could stand and whispered gently, "You came back to me. I don't care what speed you came back, Elliot. Just that you did."

"I came back for you, Liv. I came back for you, for our kids. I did. I came back for you," he said softly.

She grinned against his cheek, dropped a lingering kiss along his jaw, "And I'm the luckiest woman on the planet to have you."

He chuckled lightly and she'd take that. She'd take the small rumble in his chest, she'd take small smile that she could feel more than see and she'd take everything else about him. She'd take his temper, his tenderness, his cockiness and his hesitation. She'd take it all because it was him and there was no one else that would ever come close to him.

No one.

"We have another son," she smiled and held him tighter. "Right over there, sleeping in our office. We have him, Elliot."

Elliot trained his eyes to the small play pen that held Abel, "Yeah, he makes this face like you, you know?" he said with a hint of playfulness.

She chuckled and dropped her hands to limply fall on his abdomen, "That's impossible, Elliot."

"No," he grinned. "I saw it when I was giving him a bath. He scrunches up his nose when the water first hits, just like you do."

She licked her lips bit her bottom lip and smiled, "It seems easy today."

"What does?" he asked and lightly stroked the back of her hand.

"Accepting him. Accepting Abel. It's easier today than it was yesterday," she admitted.

"It'll keep getting easier, Liv. I think it will."

"Elliot?" she whispered, slightly more serious than only seconds ago.

"Yeah?"

She waited a moment before saying, "You love him already, don't you?"

He stopped the stroking sensation on her hand and started with a pensive tapping before responding, "I love you."

She stopped his tapping fingers by lacing her hand with his and squeezing, "That's not what I asked. I know you love me. My question was do you love _him_? Already?'

He raised their joined hands, kissed the top of her hand and placed his free hand over it. Trapping her hand just over his heart, "Part of me wants to fight it. Part of me wants to say it's too soon, that I'm betraying you by loving him so quickly, like there should be a time frame, but… I do love him, Liv. I do, and I'm afraid that makes me a bad husb-"

"It makes you amazing, Elliot," she cut him off softly and hoped her tears weren't trailing down the bare skin of his neck and telling him that she was crying. "It makes you so incredible."

"By betraying you?"

She kissed his cheek again, "By giving me an example. By loving him when I'm afraid to."

"He's just a boy."

"I know," she chuckled softly because they've said that same thing to each other so much. "I know, and I like him, Elliot. I do, the house feels full again, with him here. The kids are so happy with him and I saw your face when you held him this morning. You're in love with him, Elliot and… I'm glad. I'm happy you are."

"You'll get there Liv. You will. Just might take awhile."

She exhaled, "Right now… right now I like him. Is that okay?"

He smiled, rose up and turned around, his back popping until he settled against her and wiped gently at her drying tear tracks, "I don't hear him grumbling about it."

She beamed up at him, her nose scrunching up in happiness just like his son's had done the moment he splashed his little body with water. He kissed her then, kissed her ardently and breathed her expelled breath into his nose, "I love you, Olivia," he panted over her lips, pressing his mouth against hers again, "I love you."

She laughed, not at him. Not at anything specifically, she laughed because it felt good to do it. "Let me up," she chuckled, "we've got so much work to do today."

He stayed over her, his hips grinding almost imperceptibly over her, "I want make love to you, I want to have sex with you, right now," he smirked and shrugged his shoulder, "makes me feel better."

She laughed louder, her face turning red until she saw the play pen and realized there was a sleeping infant nearby. "In my office?" she arched her brow.

He chuckled low, rubbed into her again, "Well, we can go into my office."

She blushed and covered her face, turning into the back of the couch, "Elliot, Abel is sleeping."

He ran his thumb over her nipple and her hips instantly rose to mesh with his, "That's what I thought," he whispered and kissed her lips, "Come on, Liv."

"What if Santo's walks in?"

"I'm not sure he even knows I have an office," Elliot chuckled, "I'm not sure anyone does."

"Probably because you're always in mine… trying to have sex with me."

He laughed, shrugged his shoulder again, "You're point?"

She looked at the clock, decided Abel should sleep for at least another twenty minutes and their next client wasn't for another hour, "You happen to have any of those condoms in your office?"

"Daddy!" Hannah gleefully charged into the office and ran to her parents, oblivious to the fact that they had shifted so quickly, oblivious to the fact that Elliot was grabbing for a throw pillow to put over his legs before his daughter came crashing over his lap.

She was running full force, her dark hair bouncing, her immature teeth in a broad smile before she attempted to lunge into her father's lap. Olivia quickly intervened and picked her up into her own, "Hey, you!"

"Mommy!" Hannah laughed and kissed her mom's cheek, "I come protected my daddy."

Elliot's brows rose slightly, a small surprised smile on his face, "Protect me? From what? Mom's cooking?"

Olivia playfully narrowed her eyes at him, "Hmmm, looks like the work out daddy was gonna get isn't gonna happen… anytime soon."

Hannah looked in confusion at her father, "Workin' out? You take me swimming? Then I get a kitty?"

He laughed and just when he felt comfortable enough that his body had settled he picked her up and pulled her close, "You got your suit?"

"Pink!" she laughed, "Mommy gotted me a pink one."

Elliot grinned and stood, taking her hand, "I happen to love pink, especially on you and definitely on your mom," he winked at Olivia who was making her way to answer a ringing phone.

"I get a kitty daddy?" she asked, "For protectin' you?"

He gently shook her hand at his side as she walked along side of him, "What are you protecting me from, exactly? Mom is a great cook… what are you protecting me from?"

She looked up at her giant of a father and smiled when he slowly kneeled in front of her and caressed her face, "You don't have to protect me pumpkin. In fact that's my job, to always protect you. You just go and have lots of fun."

"With a kitty?" she asked in expectation and then caught her mother's stern face just as soon as she hung up the phone. "Uh oh."

"Seems we have an escapee," Olivia tilted her head, her hand on her waist, "Hannah Elizabeth, you've got some explaining to do young lady."

She looked at her father, her eyes wide, "Quick daddy. Let's go," she said and promptly pulled his arm, "Gotta save me, daddy."

He laughed, pulled her arm up and scooped her body into his embrace as his aching frame stood, "Seems you've done something you shouldn't have…. start talking and I might still take you to the pool."

She licked her lips, her eyes flitting between her parents, "I just… I needed my daddy," she whispered and produced her best pouted lip ever.

"Hannah," Olivia took a step closer and rested her hand on her daughter's small belly, "you hit your brother in the face with a ball on purpose then ran away from Nicole… that's not acceptable."

"You hit your brother?" Elliot asked her, all playfulness put aside.

She looked anywhere that was not her parents. "I get a kitty?"

In unison, her parents double teamed her, "No!" they replied.

"How can I trust you," Elliot said softly and ran his hand through her thick brunette hair, "to be nice to a kitty who can't protect itself when you won't be nice to Solomon?"

"He stinky, Daddy."

"He's not," Elliot said softly, "mom takes very good care of him and he takes baths just like you do."

"But I savded you, Daddy," she protested as her face began to crumble in disappointment, "I savded you and givded you a smile."

He chuckled, pulled her head close to him and kissed her forehead, "You do that everyday, princess and everyday I get to smile because I see you. Thank you for saving me, Pumpkin. You are my hero, honey. You are."

Olivia smiled softly, covered her daughter's hand with her larger one, "Daddy and I will think about a kitty if you start to show us that you love your brothers."

She instantly sobbed and broke reaching for her mother and holding as tight as she could, her long thin legs tightening around her waist as she cried laboriously. Elliot and Olivia looked at one another, clueless. "Honey," Elliot said softly and rubbed her back, "Hannah, we said we'd think about it, that should make you happy."

She took in a ragged breath and shrieked out a cry against her mother's neck. Olivia walked her back to the couch sitting carefully with her daughter in her lap, her tiny death grip around her neck, "Honey, why are you crying?"

Elliot instantly picked up Abel, afraid the crying would send him into his own fussing and crying. He held him securely in his arms and swayed with him and even as their daughter cried in her arms she couldn't help but watch in awe at how easy taking care of Abel was for Elliot.

How natural it was.

"Honey-"

Hannah cried harder, threw her head back and covered her face with her hands and she cried and cried, a behavior she'd normally do only in private with either her mommy or daddy but never both and certainly not with a little brother near by.

"Pumpkin-"

"I cant be nice to them!" she wailed and shook her head, suddenly holding stronger to her mothers biceps, "I don't never get a kitty 'cuase I not nice girl."

Olivia bit her lip stopping a laugh as Elliot turned around with Abel in his arms and walked out, trying desperately not to let out his own laughter, "I'm checking on Solo."

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Her withdrawal from him had left him cold despite the heat radiating off the sidewalk, "Crystal?"

"I should go."

"Go? We're in the middle of the city, Cyrstal!" he told her in shock. Seconds ago she'd been against him, crying and scared because she'd forgotten to tell him they were gonna cross the street and he'd almost been hit.

"You're a genius, Sam!" she snapped back.

"Ahhh!" Sam yelled in frustration and shook his head, "what it going on!?" he shouted.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on! Don't you get it Sam? Nothing is going on and I want everything to go on!"

He furrowed his brows, "Ahh! Speak English! I don't understand what you're talking about!"

"Us! I want you to be my boyfriend Sam. I do. And," she shook her head and bit her lip, suddenly growing quiet while the city continued, in all its loud glory, to exist.

"And what?" he said and took a step closer to her, "What?"

She looked at him, anger and hurt and boldness swarming her soul, "And you don't want to be, so I've got to go," she told him and moved to pass him.

He stopped her. His hand tightening around her bicep as soon as he felt the air next to her move and make way for her body, "I want you. I want you to be my girlfriend," he said softly, his head turned, only slightly in her direction, "I'm just not sure you'd want me."

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"That's my book!" Isaac yelled in anger as Alex moved him quickly to a chair, the librarian grabbing Jordan by his shirt as he tried to get away from her. They were effectively separated and both boys were beyond angry.

"You lost the book," Alex said calmly. "Books are to be read, not swung."

"But Aunt Alex-"

"Don't do that Isaac… you know that's not allowed," she told him and kneeled to keep his gaze. "What you did, hitting him, that was wrong… you're in trouble, honey. I have to call, mom."

His eyes went wide, his mouth fell open in horror, "Callin' mom?" he whispered.

"Yeah," she shook her head in disappointment as the rest of the students immediately lined up, "until then, you have a time out-"

"NO!" Isaac shook his head in frantic horror and immediately stood to run.

Alex snagged him at his belt and pulled him back to her, "You're mom and dad will be very disappointed that your acting like this-"

"No time out!" he begged, tears already streaking his face. "Please Mrs. Gray! No time out!"

Alex held his hand tightly and led him back to the class as the Librarian followed with Jordan, the class in between the two boys, some snickering others not caring at all, but whatever the librarian, Mrs. G told his aunt at the threshold of the door saved him just a little bit because Jordan was removed from the classroom by Mrs. G.

"Go to your time out," Alex reminded him softly as the class settled into their desks and began to flip through the books they'd been able to check out while his Shark book was wherever his aunt/teacher left it.

"But-"

"Go."

"No."

"Isaac," she warned him, "Go."

"No," he shook his head and turned to run and hide anywhere. Heck he'd hide next to Kelly-The-Nose-Picker or Christopher-The-Wetter so long as he didn't have to go to time out. But, apparently Mrs. Gray's arms were long and fast and she snagged him up in a heart beat, walking his reluctant and fighting body to the small time out area that as soon as he was boxed in between the corner of the room and the divider his heart would start to do that crazy thing and eventually everything would go black until he woke up again.

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Crystal bit her bottom lip, "Why wouldn't I want you? I'm standing her telling you that I liked it when you kissed me and I like being around you… are you really this dense, Sam?" she exhaled in frustration. "I'm not gonna keep doing this Sam. I don't know what your problem is 'cause you wont tell me. I'm done with this. It's ridiculous," she told him and snatched her arm free of him. She continued to distance herself, "I'm taking the subway back home. You're three blocks from school. Go back so your mom doesn't freak out…. I know you care about her, Sam. I know you wouldn't want to hurt her."

And just like that that air around him was stale and he had no sense of where she was. She'd disappeared. He had no idea which was he was facing, three blocks in what direction? "Crystal!" he shouted into the crowed that rushed around him, making him nervous. Could White be in this crowd? What about his grandfather? Could he be in this crowd, rushing past him? Would he stop and know that he recognized Sam? Would he take him?

From his mother and father.

To hurt him.

"CRYSTAL!" he screeched and if he could see, he'd be able to see that she was maybe fifty feet in front of him. Watching him. Watching to see if he'd figure it out. If he'd try to figure it out and come for her. If he could see her, he'd see that she wanted him to know that he didn't need his mother for everything, no matter how close they were, no matter how much he loved her and she loved him, sooner or later he was going to have to be a typical teen-aged-boy who ditched school, got caught and got punished.

A typical teen-aged boy who kissed.

If he could see her he'd see that her eyes never once left him. He'd see that this was critical for her, because she only wanted to know one thing.

Was she important enough to him that he would risk getting lost, with the potential of never being found?

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"Hey," Olivia whispered softly and pulled her daughter back gently, "what's with these tears?" she smiled and tenderly wiped them away, "hmmm, pumpkin?"

Hannah sniffled and took in a ragged breath, "I not a nice girl, mama."

"Oh," Olivia whispered and gently pushed her hair back behind her shoulders, "you are. You are a very nice girl."

She sniffled again and looked up at her mother, her lashes wet with tears, her brown eyes glassy, "No I not."

"Why?" Olivia asked in curiosity of what he little one thought of herself, "hmm? Tell me why you think you're a bad girl."

"Lot of time out," she said softly, "and I hitted Solo with da ball, and punchded Sak, and," her tiny chest began to heave again before a wail erupted form her little body and she hid in the safety of her mom once more.

Olivia rubbed her back softly, "Baby, you're the only girl with a whole lot of brothers… I expect that you're gonna stand up for yourself and be rough, but I don't expect you to hit Solo in the face with a ball, on purpose… but, even that doesn't make you a bad girl. It makes you a girl whose learning how to be nice."

"But," she sniffled and coughed as her nose began to run and she promptly wiped it with the back of her hand ensuring an even spread over her face "but… I bad."

"Tell me why?" Olivia whispered, suddenly not liking the direction of this conversation. At three, her daughter should be playing with dolls… err… GI Joes, and she should be worried only with things like Snow White waking up, going swimming and getting a kitty.

Not with whether or not she was bad.

She was turning into Olivia right in front of her. At three she was Olivia, and Olivia was scared to death. Suddenly. In a moment. She was terrified all over again, that her little girl would grow up and have all the hang ups of her mother and that she would have to fight twice as hard because the world was now twice as cruel, "Why?" she whispered again. She'd call her daughter on it, every single time if she had to. She'd do it with as much patience as possible until she was blue in the face because there was no way she was going to let Hannah be anything like who she was before Elliot took her hand and walked her through life. Showed her what it should have been like for her the moment she was born.

Loved.

Unconditionally.

"Why?" she pressed again and supported her daughter with one hand on her back one on her chest, "Tell me, honey."

She screeched again, her head falling back and if it hadn't been for Olivia's hold she'd of tumbled out of her lap. "I killded Kermit!"

"Oh, no. No, honey," Olivia whispered and caressed her face gently. "Look at me, baby girl," she told her softly and waited for her deep brown eyes to meet with her own. Hannah sniffled but even in all her confusion and wonderment about who she was, she had the boldness to hold her mother's gaze. Unwavering. "You are a nice girl," Olivia assured her. "What happened with Kermit was an accident, that's okay. You didn't do it on purpose. You're still amazing."

Hannah sniffled and let her stare break only momentarily before looking back at her mother for reassurance, "I amazin'?"

Olivia nodded softly, struggling to hold back her own tears, "So amazing. That's what you are. Amazing," she assured her and brought her into a warm hug, Hannah's silky hair tickling at Olivia's nose, "So amazing, baby."

Hannah sniffled against her mother and to Olivia's surprise straightened in her lap, wiped her face and nose with the back of her hand again and slid off her thighs, "I go time out," she told her mother and pulled up her small plastic chair, turning it to the wall and sitting down, "I no hit Solo no more," she assured her mom with a nod and served her time out like it was a turning point.

Like all she wanted to know was that she was the most amazing thing her mother has ever seen.

Even if she did kill her pet frog.

Olivia stood and slowly walked to her daughter and gently took her hand, "How about we make a new expectation, huh?"

Hannah looked up at her mother through her bangs, "New?"

"Yeah," Olivia smiled and kneeled, helping her daughter stand so she could turn her chair around. "How about, while you're in time out… no more walls, huh?"

Hannah grinned, kissed her mom and sat back in her chair as she watched her mother return to her desk, set a timer for her and continue her work, writing frantically and pushing buttons on the computer, "Love you Hannah-girl," she said softly as she worked and it was one of the only times she'd ever broken the rule of talking to her kids during a time out. "Love you with everything I have, baby."

"Love you too, mama."

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Isaac hadn't been lucky enough to avoid a wall in front of him and a divider behind him. He was getting hot and he'd only been in the time out long enough for Zeus to run across the yard. Not too long at all. He missed his dog. He missed how Zeus kept his eyes on him even when he was in his time outs at home. He missed his dog because when he was the most upset, Zeus would lay next to him, lick his nose with his stinky breath and snuggle close to him until the lull of Zeus' breathing took him into sleep and he woke up a happy boy the next morning.

But now, here where it was small. He's not happy. And in his short life he can't remember a time when he didn't know his mom and dad, but he feels like maybe there was a time when he didn't. Times like these when his body remembers something his mind can't. He wants Sam. He wants his mom and dad.

He'd even take Hannah at this point.

The point when his heart is beating too fast and his body is starting to sweat through his Spiderman tee shirt and he can't catch his breath. He closes his eyes as tight as he can, covers his face with his hand, squishing his glasses that his mom helped pick out for him up into the recesses of his eyes.

He's terrified.

The sob erupted from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Isaac leaned his small body forward and slammed his hands against the wall, "No!" he shouted, the fear rising up in his throat. Acidic and sour at once.

"Help me!" he screeched and suddenly his breath was nowhere. "Help! It's scary!" he shouted and bent low over his thighs, his hands moving to the back of his head as his glasses fell from the face onto the carpet, "Help me!"

Alex had been next to him in seconds but not fast enough to calm him. She'd moved the cardboard divider, turned him around and immediately straightened his torso seeing him fighting to catch his air, "Isaac," she'd said so softly he almost thought it was his mother.

"Mommy."

"It's Aunt Alex," she replied and wished she hadn't. It frightened him more, knowing his mother wasn't there. Why wasn't she there? Why did it feel like she wasn't there before? What about daddy?

"My daddy? Help me," he wheezed his face turning a dark shade of fear.

"Honey, it's me," Alex whispered and tried to have him stand, but the moment she'd pulled him out of the chair, he'd given up and past out falling into her body.

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"Where am I!" Sam demanded once his searching hands had come into contact with what he thought might be a place that his dad would take him to get hot dogs. A vendor. Which meant there should be someone manning it. "Hello!" Sam's nostrils flared, "Answer me! I can smell you! Where am I?"

A deep voice that made Sam pull back in startled fear boomed, "Get the hell outta here ya freak!"

Sam turned frantically and kept his hands out in front of him, "Where am I!" he screeched and felt people pass him, felt the material of their clothes brush against him, "Why won't you answer me!" he demanded and tears started to fall down his face. "Help me!"

"Stop yellin and I'll be glad to help you, young man," an elderly voice caught his attention and he focused his ear solely on her.

"Help me," he sniffled, "Please, I'm lost. I don't know where I am."

The older woman smiled, "Lend me your hand and I'll take you where you need to be."

"No," Sam said frantically, "No… I just… where am I? Please ma'am. Help me."

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you-"

"No!" Sam said firmly, "I just need to know where I am… where's the school?"

"Ah, late for class, I see. It's three blocks to your left, I'm assuming that's the one you want… why are you out here by the subway?"

Sam stilled, "Subway?"

She laughed, "Are you from around here? Did you just get off the subway? Is that why you're late?"

"Subway?" he bit his lip, "W-where is the subway?"

The older woman assessed the young boy and grew concerned, "You shouldn't be out and about," she told him softly, "if you can't see. Let me take you-"

"No! I can't!" He told her frantically, "Please! Let me do this. Just tell me where."

She exhaled, "About a block to your right bu-"

"Thank you!" Sam told her and while he knew he should go left to spare his mother worry. His body went right and he struggled through the crowd that bumped into him. He fell, got back up only to fall again and it dawned on him that he'd been through this before. He had to run to freedom before.

Through a forest while his father lay dying.

He stopped dead in his tracks and if he'd been able to see he'd of seen Crystal only twenty feet away, watching intently to see what he was planning on doing. He wondered if he could do this again. The school would call home, he knew it because one day he'd gotten so sick he'd went to the nurse without reporting to sixth period and within minutes his mom was at the school.

Frantic.

So the question was, could he run to where he thought Crystal might be, in this subway thing she kept talking to him about, while his mother was frantic after a phone call from school. He took a deep breath and hoped his mom would still love him. Hoped his dad would still think he was a man.

Sam took a slow step forward and then another and moved faster, falling and tumbling until he ran smack into a railing and groaned, "Uggh, what the heck!"

"It's called a subway, idiot!" a stray voice called out and Sam couldn't care less because he had reached his destination. He followed the rail, his hands covering the rail and what he thought might be gum and some things he didn't ever want to know he touched, and then the rail stopped.

And bent.

He followed it.

And on his first step he fell and almost continued to tumble, his Addidas scuffing as his hands held frantically to the rail and he gasped. "Dangit!" He managed to stand, to test the area in front of him and finally concluded that it was a stairwell going down.

And down he would go.

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"Where Nana?" Solomon asked as he looked around and quickly darted to his mother as if thinking his sister was crouched low somewhere ready to take him down if he didn't get to safety first.

"Hey, handsome," Olivia grinned and rolled her chair back, "Hop up. Hannah's sleepin'."

"Busted?"

"Lil'bit," Olivia smiled at him "how's the nose?"

He grinned at his mother, "I happy. Where Nanah?"

Olivia kissed his forehead softly, "Sleeping on the side of the couch, where it's nice and cool. Want to work with me?"

"No," he shook his head and slid out of her lap, quickly trotting to his sleeping sister and while Olivia thought there might be some sort of vengeance in mind she smiled when he got on his knees, rested his face in front of his sister and watched her for a moment to ensure she was asleep. He stretched out next to her and giggled, "Nigh nigh Nanah."

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By the time Sam reached the bottom of the subway steps he was certain he's scraped the majority of flesh off of his body. His forearms burned from grinding against the cement walls every time he took a misstep and stumbled. His shoulders were beyond hurting and felt like he surely must have ripped his muscles apart because he was in pain. He hurt from grabbing the railing as his entire body slipped out from under him.

He's decided that he needs to lift more weights. Work out at the gym with his dad.

Because Crystal is gonna be the death of him. Just like his father swears his mother will be the death of him. Although as Sam tries desperately to catch his breath at the landing of the subway steps he cannot for the life of him understand what his father means.

How can he say that about his mother when there is complete happiness in his voice? It doesn't make sense to Sam because as of right now, he wants to find Crystal for one reason and one reason only. And it's not to kiss her.

He'd like to kill her.

He heard his ankle pop at one time but as he stood there he knew it wasn't broken. He did know, however; that if he managed to find Crystal in this chaotic blob of people and noise and smells, she was so dead. He wanted to find her just to tell her he was never going to talk to her again and that all the things that he wanted to tell her about his grandfather and all the reasons that he wanted to give her for being afraid of doing anything like they'd done in their restroom, all those things, she'll never know. Not now.

"Crystal!" He shouted into the crowd and as if his voice had summonsed something great, he felt the floor beneath him vibrate and come alive, he felt his ear drums sizzle with a screeching sound, a new wind and smell that caressed him and just as soon as the sounds had occurred, they stopped.

And just like that, within seconds he stood in a space once filled with other bodies, now empty.

"Hello?" he spun around and trained his ear on anything he could, "Hello?!"

"You better get on, if you're getting' on!" Sam heard someone call out to him. It was to his immediate left. He turned to head to the voice and to his surprise, another gust of wind came and spun around him, lifting his hair and tightening his shirt against his form. He had no idea what was going on.

So he walked faster toward it.

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Her face had paled, her mouth fell agape in shock and Olivia Stabler looked like she was going to pass out right in front of Casey who had been holding Abel for what seemed to be forever. Olivia shook her head, tried to get the confusion and haze out so she could process what the other voice on the line was telling her.

"I dropped him off," Olivia said softly into the receiver, "I dropped him off and I watched him walk into the school. He's got to be there… maybe he got disoriented? Have you tried to call him through the P.A. system?"

Casey adjusted Abel onto her shoulder, she'd almost gotten Olivia to explain the meaning of Abel's name to her when the phone rang. Olivia, who'd been smiling and laughing and, as Casey saw it, trying to cover up a little bit of angst in regards to Abel; answered the phone and her smile immediately fell.

Casey sat slowly and cautiously on a chair across from her best friend's and watched her face grow downcast. Watched her lean forward slightly as if her world had just stopped so forcefully and so quickly it almost snapped her heart from her chest. "Olivia?" Casey said softly as soon as Olivia replaced the phone on its receiver.

Olivia ran her fingertip over the plastic of the phone and stared up at Casey from her desk, "Sam isn't in class, probably got disoriented... I think he's having a rough time getting that school down… it's been awhile now and he's still having trouble with the layout."

"Want me to run by the school? Check up on him?" Casey asked softly and gently moved Abel so that he was safely cradled in her arms.

Olivia took in a deep breath, "He's thirteen… he's my boy and I love him to death but… he's growing up. He can't possibly want me with him when he can't figure things out. That can't be good for him… I should wait. Shouldn't I?"

Casey grinned, "Trying to cut apron strings so young?"

Olivia bowed her head and covered her blush, "No. Just… I mean, I know he's a mama's boy to some extent, but… If I go there everyone else will know and I don't want him starting a new school like that. I want him to be strong. For himself, you know?"

"I know," Casey assured her and rubbed her hand along Abel's belly. "You ever gonna give the good's on his name or what?"

Olivia beamed and leaned back in her chair, "Uh, let's see, Malachi means my angel."

Casey's brows arched in surprise, "Serious?"

She pulled in her lower lip, wetting it to settle her nerves, "Yeah," she said confidently and then just as quick as her confidence had appeared it shattered, "I don't know what to do with him Casey. I don't. I'm so scared I'm gonna mess Abel up. Like I won't be able to love him."

"Ah," Casey nodded softly, "the great Olivia Stabler… scared."

"Shut up, Casey."

"Why are you scared?" Casey asked softly and smiled down at the infant in her arms, "I mean, is he packin' heat in this pamper?"

Olivia exhaled, put her forehead on her desk producing a thud and chuckled softly, "Not the kind of heat you're thinking'."

"Oh," Casey smiled, "so, he's tried to kill you? Hurt the kids? Oh, I know, this eight pound body is secretly a disguise and he's more like this hideous-"

"You've made your point, Casey," Olivia responded dryly, "I get that he's small and probably innocent-"

"Probably?"

Olivia straightened herself and stared at her friend "Case… when I look at him, I see-" 

"Me?" Casey grinned and looked down at the young boy, "Really? Hmm, I'd never of guess as such, but yeah, I guess the nose looks like mine… maybe the ears on a good day-"

"Case!" Olivia groaned, her frustration evident. "I'm being serious!"

Casey stood to her feet and smiled softly, "I have to go pick up Addison-"

"Casey I'm sorry. I didn't me-"

"I'm not mad," Casey assured her and happily walked to her, "Take your son, Olivia," she told her softly.

Olivia looked up, partly in confusion, partly in happiness that she'd be able to hold him again and partly in exasperation that her heart was taking so long to settle, "Shouldn't I have fallen in love with him already? Shouldn't I have-"

"How long until you fell in love with Sam? It wasn't over night Olivia… it takes time," Casey said softly and leaned over Olivia's shoulder to peer down at Abel who looked at the two women and let his eyes flit back and forth between them, his full pink lips producing a sucking motion, a small sound and then a formidable amount of drool.

"I love Sam so much, I love him just like I'd given birth to him," Olivia whispered and ran her finger under Abel's mouth. "I've never regretted a day that we've had Sam… I've never regretted a day with any of my kids… but I don't know why I'm so torn with Abel… like it's not working."

"Olivia," Casey said softly, "this wasn't a typical adoption-"

"Either was Sam," Olivia protested, "And I fell in love with him. I did, Casey-"

Casey rested her hand on Olivia's shoulder, "Samuel's father didn't rape you, Olivia," Casey said tenderly and watched her friend hold her son tighter, as if just his presence could some how force her to fall in love with him, "Olivia," Casey kneeled next to the two, "Everyone that has been able to come into your small circle of trust, knows that there are circumstances surrounding Abel's adoption and if you think that we all expect you to be madly in love with him in three or four days… you're wrong."

Olivia took a deep breath and continued to look down at the small boy, "H-he goes through pampers so fast… I'm talking, I just put one on and barely get it strapped and he needs another one."

Casey chuckled softly, "Addison was a water hose just waiting to squirt."

"I want to love him, Casey," she told her gently and let her finger fall into Abel's tight grasp again, "I want to love him and I want to look at him and really feel like he's mine and Elliot's you know?"

Casey stood and played with the infant's small foot, "You will. We're all pulling for you Olivia, and we're pulling for Elliot, too… we uh, we… we let him down when you and he separated, we-"

Olivia looked up at her in surprise, "Casey… Elliot and I, we're over that. He loves you guys. If anyone sold him down the drain, it was me. I'm his wife and I walked away from him. I'm learning to do things differently, see things differently-"

"Then," Casey grinned down at Abel who was trying desperately to get his mother's finger in his mouth, "look at this one differently, see Abel different from what you know his DNA makes him. See him as your son. Never his."

"I thi-"

"Liv?" Elliot grinned as he came crashing through the office door.

Olivia startled slightly and laughed as adjusted Abel in her arms so Elliot could see him, "Daddy thinks he's on Seinfeld that way he walks in here."

Elliot chuckled and wrapped his arm around Casey in a friendly embrace, "Hi, where's Paul and Addy?"

"Ah, Elliot!" Casey groaned and slipped out of his arms, "Did you just get off the treadmill? Ahh, you reek!"

"My wife never minds," he chuckled and bent low to kiss Olivia on the cheek, "I'm gonna take a shower and head out, you good with that?"

Olivia furrowed her brows and cupped his cheek, a quick kiss on his lips before he pulled away, "I didn't know you made plans… you okay?"

He grinned and nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"El… Sam's school called, he's not in his class."

He furrowed his brow, "He's probably disoriented, you know he's having-"

"A hard time with the layout of the school," she nodded, "I know. I told them to call him on the PA and they haven't called back."

"Well," Elliot grinned, "no news is good news, right?"

Olivia nodded, "Yeah… oh, and the barbeque we're having?"

"Yeah?"

"I thought we could change it up? Make it a birthday party for Chloe? Invite everyone.. I miss Mac and Fin… I want them to meet Abel."

Elliot grinned, "Sounds good. I got to go, call me if you haven't heard from Sam's school."

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Crystal watched in horror as Sam walked toward the subway train. He was oblivious to what was happening, he was oblivious to the fact that the train could kill him and suddenly she felt like this was a very bad idea.

"Sam!" she hollered with all that she had, "Sam! Stop!" she screeched and bolted after him, her arms and legs propelling her small body through the atmosphere just as they'd worked to propel her through the water of the pool all the times she and Sam raced against one another at his parent's gym. She yelled at him again to stop.

But, he kept going.

The sounds were so loud and only getting louder the closer Sam got to where the voice had beckoned him to follow. If he could see, he would have seen the thick yellow line painted on the platform of the subway, warning passengers to stand clear. If he could see, he'd see one very important thing.

He was about to cross that line and fall against the moving subway train.

"SAMUEL!" Crystal screeched and reached out in one desperate attempt to save Sam's life.

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"Well," Vivian smiled from her desk, "what brings you buy? You aren't scheduled for another week, you know? You're wife did call this morning, said she and you had something major to discuss with me… you look stressed out."

Elliot smiled softly, "I know… I was, uh… hoping you'd a few minutes you could spare?"

"For you or Olivia? Always. Sit your beautiful ass down, Elliot. Tell me, what brings you here?"

Elliot chuckled and shook his head, "Certainly got a way with greetings, Vivian."

She peered over her thick rimmed black glasses and smirked, "You want I should be uptight? You want me to be a standard shrink? Okay, how are you feeling today, Mr. Stabler? Let's connect with your inner child."

Elliot laughed again, "That's okay. I'm fine the way we are, Vivian."

"Good then!" She nodded and leaned back, "Olivia know you're here?"

"No," he shook his head and exhaled, "no. She doesn't."

Vivian nodded, "Hmm. Think she might kill you if she finds out?"

Elliot raised his brows and let them fall quickly, "I don't think so. No. This is more for me than her."

Vivian tilted her head, "Really? Do tell."

Elliot drew in his bottom lip and chewed it before letting it go, "She… uh… she asked me to do something and I'm not sure it's good for her."

Vivian pursed her lips, sat up and took her glasses off placing them on her desk before she tented her fingers in front of her, "You came here, without her knowledge, to talk about her… and you don't think she's gonna want to kill you? I think she's gonna slaughter you."

Elliot grinned and licked his lips, "You helpin' or what?"

Vivian chuckled and raised her hand, "I'm all ears. What brings you buy?"

Elliot leaned forward, his elbows digging into his legs, "She, uh… the other day, we uh. We were being intimate-"

"Bumpin' uglies, uh huh. Go on."

Elliot tried to hold back a smile, "Right. Anyway, we we're getting ready to have sex and she… she asked me, if I would… she asked me, if I would… she asked me if I-"

"If what?" she said seriously, "What is it that has you here, without her knowledge and stuttering?"

Elliot drug his tongue over his bottom lip, "She asked me to tie her up. To tie her up… while we had sex."

"Ah," Vivian nodded, "and you're here because you don't know what type of restraint to use? Well, I mean there's rope, silk, cuffs, nylons-"

"No!" Elliot shook his head, "No! I just-"

Vivian chuckled, "Sorry. Just having fun with you… You're concerned about it, tying her up?"

Elliot exhaled a deep breath and scrubbed his hands over his face before standing and walking to the window, "He… he tied her up, you know?"

She exhaled softly, "I can't tell you what she tells me in her sessions and you two don't talk about it in great detail in your joint sessions, but… yeah, I know."

Elliot turned to face her and crossed his arms across his chest, "Why, why… I mean, he tied her up and raped her… why would she want me to do that to her?"

"Woaw, woaw, woaw," Vivian interrupted, "Woaw, she might want to experiment with something with you, but… do you really think she wants you to re-enact som-"

"What?" Elliot pushed off the wall and shook his head frantically, "No! No! I don't think she would want me to… reenact anything. I just.. I just don't understand why she wants me to tie her up."

Vivian smiled, "Let her tie you up and then come back and we'll talk."

He blushed.

Vivian's brows raised, "Well, I guess that answered that… you two are making decisions without having to be here first. That's amazing… she tied ya up, huh?"

He grinned and ducked his head, "Yeah… she sort of did this, crazy power thing."

"Erotic?"

Elliot leaned back and puffed out a breath of air, "Amazing."

"Did you feel safe?"

Elliot nodded, "Absolutely."

"Then, I don't understand why you wouldn't want Olivia to experience something erotic and safe, with the man she loves."

He hooked his hand on the back of his neck and rubbed it firmly, "I'm afraid if I do it… she'll have a flash back."

"Like the last time?"

Elliot nodded and stared down at the carpet, his brows furrowed, his voice a rough whisper, "She took my boy… took him and ran and I was so scared I'd never get them back. In the two hours it took me to find her… I was scared."

"But you found her, didn't you?"

"I know her."

"Then… why are you here, asking me if you should tie her up and make love to her? If you know her… why are you here?"

Elliot took a breath, looked at her with pleading eyes, "I don't want to hurt her. I don't want her to ever be afraid of me… of my touch."

"Then follow her lead."

He furrowed his brows, shook his head, "What lead! She hasn't given me any direction!"

Vivian smiled, "She tied you up, Elliot… she let you know what it felt like. She let you know what it felt like, that it could be safe. Maybe that's her direction. Maybe she is trying to tell you."

"I know that she wants it," he nodded and rest his chin in her palm, "I just… want if I'm too rough with her? What if-"

"You and your wife," Vivian chuckled and shook her head, "You two will 'what if' everything… what do you want, Elliot? I can't tell you 'yes' do it, or 'no' don't. Why don't you bring her in and we'll all talk about it?"

"If you can't tell me yes or no… can you tell me if you think she's ready for something like this? Can you tell me if she's strong enough to handle it if something goes wrong?"

Vivian leaned back in her chair and thought for several seconds, "I think that your wife has been in the trenches for a very long time Elliot. I think that she has overcome some of the most heinous obstacles imaginable and… I think that if she is asking you to lead her through something so intimately personal and scary for her, if she's asking you to prove to her that sex can be amazing, erotic and safe tied up or otherwise, if she's asking all that… I'd say she's trying to tell you that she's ready."

"So… what do I do?"

She smiled, "Trust yourself that you do know her as well as you believe you do."

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Sam felt his body fall backwards, a slender arm wrap around his waist as he was suddenly snapped backwards, onto the platform, but it wasn't cement he hit. It was human flesh that let out an ear curdling scream.

He heard a snap. A loud one.

"Sam!" the voice came out so labored. She was panting. Moaning.

"Crystal?" Sam immediately rolled off of the person who'd broken his fall. He's rolled off of Crystal.

"Sam," she groaned and if he could see her he'd see her holding her arm in her lap, he'd see her tears falling heavily, her lips turned downward, "Sam… hurts."

Sam moved quickly on his knees, feeling the area for the form of her body, anything to tell him where she was in space. In his blind reality. "What hurts!" he asked frantically, "What? Tell me! What happened? Where were you! Why-"

"Samuel!" she groaned out his name and suddenly vomited.

He scrunched his nose at the sensation dripping down his body.

_What to hear something gross?_

_Yeah! _

_I puked all over your dad once. _

_Was he mad?_

_No. No your dad held me. _

He scooted across the cement and wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close to his chest. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay," he murmured into her ear, "What hurts? Tell me. I'll fix it," he told her and took the hem of his shirt, wiping gently at her mouth because he thought that was probably something his dad would do for him mom if she were sick.

"I think," she moaned and cried harder into his chest. "Sam, I broke my arm."

He probably didn't realize it and it was probably a good thing he didn't realize it, but he'd kissed the top her head, "Okay… okay. I'll take you to the hospital."

"Sam," she said so weakly, "Sam, it hurts so bad… please help me. I'm sorry I've been mean to you. I'm sorry I made you come down here. Help me, Sammy. Please, help me."

"HELP US!" Sam yelled into the atmosphere that since she'd fallen had gotten louder and he couldn't understand that while he heard people walking by no one was helping them. "PLEASE!" he yelled again.

And suddenly, he felt himself being ripped away from her.

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"Mommer, I no go sweepies," Solomon told her, shaking his head, "I'na see Abie."

"Abie," Olivia grinned and tickled his sides, "I like that nick name."

"I makes it up in my noodle," he explained to her and tapped his head, "I makes it up 'cause I amazin'."

Olivia grinned, "Yeah, I know you are. And that's why you need to get some sleep."

"I sweepied at da office with sister."

"Yep, you sure did. Then we went for a swim and we talked to Grandpa and we had lunch and you got to play with Abel-"

"Abie… I makeded it up."

Olivia smiled and kissed his cheek, "Take your nap, son."

Solomon groaned, "Ah, Mommer… but yous purdy… can I stay wakies for my daddy?"

Olivia grinned, "Honey, Abie is asleep. Hannah is asleep and Daddy is gonna pick up your brothers for me in a few hours 'cause I told him I'd clean the house… let me clean the house, please?"

"I helps you!" he told her with wide blue eyes and slid off of his bed taking her hand, "I stay wakies for my daddy and I help my mommer," he told her and quickly pulled her out of the room, "No sweepies."

She smiled and picked him up, "Fine, big boy… help me with the laundry."

"Snuggles?" he asked as she carried him down the hall, through the kitchen and dinning room and into the laundry room.

"Yeah, snuggles," she told him, opening the cabinet above the washer and dryer, "get Snuggles."

Solomon laughed and reached into the cabinet, pulling out a small blue box of dryer sheets and pointing to the teddy bear, "Snuggles!"

She grinned, set him on the ground, "Make a pile of clothes over there for me, huh? I'll put in the whites and let you push the buttons."

"Cool!" he giggled and started to pile up clothes for her to sort, "I a helper."

"Sure are," she told him as she began to load up the washer with whites. She made sure they were distributed evenly so as to not produce the loudest banging ever within the washer. She opened the cupboard and pulled down the Tide soap, "Honey, you want to put the soap in?" she asked and when there was no answer she turned around to see her son, asleep on the top of his proud pile of clothing, his father's maroon polo shirt on his body, looking more like a dress.

She laughed softly, "Yeah, no sweepies, huh?" she grinned and squatted to pick him up, "Uggh, you eat too much, honey," she whispered and walked out of the laundry room back past the dining room and living room, down the hall and into his room. She layed him gently on the bed and tucked him in, "Night Monster-boy."

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Elliot had two hours until he needed to pick up Isaac and head over to Sam's school to pick him up. But, as he stood in front of the door to his home, he knew one important thing.

Vivian had been right.

He took a deep breath and fiddled with the small sack in his hands and made himself a promise before walking into his home and closing the door behind him, "Liv," he called out and cleared the nervousness from this throat. The last two weeks had been full of hard decisions and gentle love making that was for the sole purpose of reassuring one another that they'd made right decisions. It was full of love making that was all about Olivia being in control, being able to be the one giving. Being alive.

"In the laundry room," she called back to him.

He took in a slow breath and walked to the laundry room. This time, making love to her would be about doing the things she has asked. This time it would be him putting his questions and nervousness aside. This time it would be different.

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"Get off of me!" Sam shouted as strong arms restrained him, "Get off of me, now you bastard!"

"Settle down there, son. Settle down," a voice commanded him.

"I'm not your son! Let go of me, bastard!" Sam yelled and he couldn't stand this mans hands around him because no matter what the man told him, no matter how he tried to sooth him. His arms, in this moment, were White's and there was only one thing he knew to do.

Sam shot his head back, "Get off of me White! Let me go, you fucker!"

"Sam!" Crystal heaved and vomited one more time.

"She'll be okay!" the man yelled again, "I'm a-"

"Bastard!" Sam hollered, "she's hurt! We need a doctor!"

"I'm gonna-"

Sam shot his head back one more time before he felt the most excruciating pain in his eyes, just before his face caught fire and his breathing became labored.

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Elliot tucked the contents of his small sac into his pocket and walked passed the dining room to the laundry room, stopping to see her folding clothes and stacking them into a basket, "Hey, baby," she smiled at him and put the full basket on the ground.

The small room smelled of Downey dryer sheets, tide soap and fabric softener. And under all of that, it smelled like his wife. It smelled of her body wash, her shampoo and the perfume Hannah had picked out for her birthday.

"El?" she called to him again as the washer transferred to the wash cycle and she shut the door to the dryer, turning it on. When there was no response from him, she turned, straightened and looked at him, "El? What's wrong?"

He watched her, her hair clipped into a ponytail, her lips full, her neck strong and begging for his mouth to be on it. The rise and fall of her chest that he wanted to trail his tongue over. Her jeans, that needed to come off. "Elliot?"

"Where are the kids?" he asked in a voice so low, and so sexy she took a step backwards stumbling into the washer.

"El?"

"Where are they?" he whispered again and closed the gap between them, his hand finding it's place on her hip, "I have to pick up the boys soon… where are the kids?" he told her again and traced the collar of her plunging shirt to the top of her breast, purposefully letting his fingers graze her warm skin.

"El-"

He leaned into her hips, let his painful erection press into her, "Where, Liv?"

She bit her bottom lip, rested her hands on his shoulders, "Sleeping."

Even with his gentleness, he looked like a predator, the way he took in her body, traveling from her eyes, down her breast, her navel and still lower before traveling up the other side of her body and meeting her eyes again, "I'm going to take you right now, Liv."

She raised her brows, let her hand fall from his shoulders until she was completely pinned between him and the washer, its vibrations helping her along in her arousal, "Right now?"

"This very second," he told her and didn't wait for her response. He quickly, but gently took her shirt off, casting it to the basket.

"Those are clean," she whispered and gasped the moment she felt his mouth on her neck, his hands on her tightening breasts.

"They'll be okay," he chuckled over her and began to unbuckle her jeans before kissing her again, suddenly more frantic and much more desperate, "I need you, Liv."

She laughed low and pushed him back, his body hitting the wall, "You want me?" she said in a voice that dripped in sex and desire.

"Uh huh," he nodded, "and I'm gonna have you."

She cocked a brow, "What makes you think I'll give you me?"

He smirked, his eyes already drooping with reckless desire for his wife. He reached behind his neck and pulled his t-shirt over his head, "I know you, Olivia," he told her and cast his shirt into the basket, "I know you, and as soon as I'm naked… you're mine."

She jutted her chin to him, a playful challenge, "You sound real sure of yourself, Stabler."

He licked his bottom lip, shifted his hips because if he didn't get out of his jeans real quick he was gonna be in serious pain. "Prove it," she challenged.

He grinned, took a step closer to her and unbuttoned his pants, letting them stay open, his zipper down, "You can't walk away from this."

She swallowed hard, used her hands to brace herself behind her, "I don't think you've got the guts to take me right now. Right here. With the kids sleeping."

His grin was dangerous, seductive and cocky all at once and just as he'd surprised her by coming home early, he surprised her by suddenly unclasping her bra and practically ripping it off of her body, unconcerned with where it landed so long as his lips landed on her nipple.

And that they did.

"Oh," she gasped and her hand instantly went to the back of his head, "Oh, Elliot… we can't. Not here, the-"

"Shh," he told her and continued to suckle her breast, "I'm going to have you… you're mine, Liv."

"El," she panted, "El, what's going on? Why-"

He deftly dropped her pants in a matter of seconds, "I told you… shhhh."

She swallowed again and just before he moved to settle his bound erection against her she stopped him, cupped his face in her hands, "Just, promise me you're okay. That this isn't something to take your mind off of something else. Everything's okay?"

He grinned, "Everything is fine, but it'd be perfect if you stopped talking and let me have you."

She chuckled, rubbed her thumbs just under his eyes and pulled him to her, kissing him passionately, her mouth open and willing to have him. Her tongue tracing his heat with a rush that surprised him, in fact if he didn't know any better, he'd say she wanted this just as much as he did. Just as fast as he did.

She pushed him back to the wall, his shoulders pinned as she nipped his bottom lip and moved lower down his neck to his collar bone, her hands hungrily sliding his jeans down past his hips. She looked down at him and smirked, "Boxer briefs, huh?"

He smiled, "I like to see you drool over me."

She cocked a brow, ran her hand over his bulging crotch, "They make you look huge."

He pressed into her, felt the stab of her naked nipples against the skin of his chest, felt the tips of her fingertips through the cloth of his briefs, "I am huge."

"Cocky."

"Yes," he told her and kissed her mouth, a small growl against her lips, "that's exactly what's huge."

And as if his touch were gasoline and she was a match, they erupted in a flurry of sexual heat.

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"Where is she!" Sam barked, "get these off of me! You're hurting me! Bastard! What'd you do to my eyes?"

"Will you chill out, kid!" the officer bellowed as he pulled Sam out of the police cruiser. "You're making this worse!"

"My father was a lieutenant! My mom and uncles are cops!" Sam screeched and leaned back against the cop trying desperately to kick himself free, "I don't believe you!" Sam screeched, "You're hurting me, they wouldn't do that! I want to talk to Captain Cragen! My face is burning!"

"STOP!" The officer yelled again and pulled roughly at Sam's cuffs causing him to yelp in pain.

"Asshole!" Sam cried and began to kick and fight his way up the stairs of the precinct.

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"What do you make of it?" Fin asked as he and Mac sat across from one another at their desk.

"I think… I think that-" Mac shook his head, "Man, I got no clue what to think, there isn't evidence that anything took place that she didn't want to take place… I don't think he raped her."

"Yeah, he did," Carp interjected as he took a bite of a maple covered doughnut and stared at the computer screen in front of him, "I don't know how or why… but he did it."

"Well," Fin exhaled and shook his head, "I guess our only option is to wait and see if she wakes up, huh?"

"Which could take for ever," Carp mumbled and ran his hand through his hair.

"Hey, kid," Fin smacked his lips, "why you still here?"

Carp furrowed his brows and looked between Mac and Fin in confusion, "I… uh, work here."

"Yeah, but there's really nothing that can be done right now… why aren't you home with the misses and the brat?"

Carp exhaled, looked down and shook his head, "The misses, is slightly pissed at me, right now. I'm not sure it'd be a good idea for me to be home."

"Uh oh," Mac grinned and sat up in his chair, "The kid's got trouble in paradise," he laughed and continued to tease him.

"Dude, shut up," Carp shook his head and tossed his pencil on the desk before walking away.

"Way to push his buttons," Mac said tossing a coffee stirrer at Fin who caught it with a grin.

"Ah, he's too easy," Fin chuckled as he tossed the stirrer in the trash and stood, "I'll go give him a pacifier."

Mac was just about to toss another sarcastic remark to Fin when he noticed two struggling officers taking walking a much smaller person in between them. He might have been small but he was sure putting up a fight.

"Stupid bastard! My eyes!" the perp yelled and then to Mac's chagrin he placed the voice immediately.

"Hey!" Mac called to the uniforms, "Hey, stop!" he demanded and ran from his desk to cut them off in the hall, "What in the hell-"

"That's my Uncle Mac, ass-wipe!"

"Samuel Stabler?" Mac asked with shock clearly written across his face.

"Uncle Mac!" Sam sniffled and continued to fight the officers for his freedom.

"Stop moving, Samuel," Mac demanded and tipped Sam's head up for a better look. "What the hell happened to his face?"

"Pepper-sprayed, detective," an officer explained, "we tried to pull him off a girl he attacked-"

"Attacked!" Sam suddenly lurched again, "Liar! Go to hell. You hear me? Go to hell!"

"Stop!" Mac demanded him, "Stop right now, Sam. You'll make it worse… officer get me the wipes for his eyes-"

"Detec-"

"Get me the damn wipes!" Mac bellowed to one officer and then looked at the next, "You get him out of those damn bracelets right now."

"Detective," the uniform shook his head, "Witnesses said he was on top of the-"

"LIAR!" Sam bellowed through a sudden gush of tears, "Uncle Mac! I didn't do anything. I was lost!"

Mac stood taller, "Let me tell you something officer, this is the grandson of Captain Cragen, the son of Detectives Stabler and Benson and they might all be retired but… you really want to explain this to them?"

The officer exhaled and shook his head, "I can't just cut him loose."

Mac narrowed his eyes at the officer, "You sayin' I can't keep my eye on a teenager?"

"He broke a cop's nose."

Mac looked down at Sam in shock, "I'm sure there is a rational reason. Get those cuffs off of him now and where the hell are the wipes!"

"Got'em," the younger officer said and handed them off to Mac who exhaled once Sam's arms were freed and he instantly moved to the shelter of a man he considered an uncle.

"Uncle Mac," he sniffled, "my eyes are like fire. Please," he started to cry, "it hurts to breath and my face is so painful. What did he do to me?"

Mac ushered him quickly back into the SVU bullpen and then into an interrogation room and helped him sit, "What happened, Sam? You need to tell the truth, you're in big trouble, man."

"My eyes," Sam groaned, "Where's Crystal?"

"Crystal? Your girlfriend?" Mac asked opening the moist towelette and holding it firmly over Sam's eyes, the balm instantly working its magic on the thirteen-year-old's eyes.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Sam snapped and pulled away taking control of the towelette, "but… is she okay?"

Mac exhaled, "I don't even know what's happening… I have to call your parents."

"NO!" Sam shouted, "No! You can't! Dad will be so pissed!"

"Sam-"

"Uncle Mac," Sam sniffled, "Please… please, I'll tell you what happened."

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He was panting in her ear, "I want you."

Olivia groaned and wrapped one leg around his waist, her eyes glossy with want, her lips already bruised from his kisses, "For someone who declared this a quickie… we're getting nowhere f- ahhhh."

He sunk into her in one smooth motion. He'd griped her hips and slammed into her body and she had taken him with a shocked gasp and then a glorious smile. He bit at her bottom lip, "What was that?" he whispered and kissed her, nipping at her lip again, her neck and then her cleavage.

Olivia moaned, pushing him deeper into her with her leg, "I stand corrected."

And just when he knew he had her in total want he instantly grabbed her waist and hiked her to the top of the washer, "No," she groaned as soon as she felt him leave her body, she followed it by a hiss from the cool metal, "No. What are you doing?" she panted.

Elliot grinned, licked her nipple softly on his way to kiss her mouth before he pulled back and opened the cupboards just above her.

"Ellio-"

"Shh, you're impatient."

She grinned and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist trying to wiggle her self closer to his erection, "You turned me on… now you have to deliver."

He swooped in quickly and kissed her hot on the mouth, he possessed her lips, palmed her naked breast in his hand and pulled away only to quickly lift her up and set her directly under the center of the cupboard.

"Elliot," she hissed. "Stop moving me!" she began to laugh, "the washer is cold!"

"Just, stay," he panted and turned around bending over to reach his pants.

"That is an amazing rear end," Olivia marveled and extended her foot to graze him with her big toe.

"Stop it!" he chuckled and reached into his pant pocket then suddenly crashed into the wall, gasping once the top of her foot grazed his sac, "Liv!"

She chuckled, leaned forward as innocently as she could her hands between her thighs supporting her, "Sorry… did you almost come?"

He turned to face her, his hand behind his back and he instantly moved closer to her, kissing her hard on the mouth, his erection crashing against the cool of the washer and making his want to be inside of her, a need. He pulled away from her lips, kissed her cheek softly and she felt his whole demeanor change. In a moment he'd gone from sexually charged to soft and suddenly concerned, "Do you trust me?" he whispered against her cheek, "Do you trust me that I don't want to hurt you? That I never would?"

Olivia furrowed her brows and smiled against him, her fingers grazing his back, her legs draping over his buttocks, "I trust you."

"Stay with me here, baby," he whispered and in an instant she felt the cold metal on her wrist, heard the clicking of the cuff tighten against her as he lifted her arm above her.

She gasped in shock and a whole lot of curiosity, "Are you serious?" she asked him and stared boldly at him. Her brown eyes bright and wide. A smile.

He kissed her mouth, his hand still raised and joined with her cuffed wrist, "Is this okay?"

Olivia's smile turned into a grin. She looked above her and saw his hand laced with hers. She raised her other hand and nodded, "Definitely, okay."

He looked at her, swallowed and felt his length pulse for her, the vibrations of the washer against his erection making it more difficult for him to keep control of his body. He looked up, made sure the cuffs were hooked around the small piece of wood the cabinet doors would have met at when closed. He placed her free hand inside of the cuff and slowly clicked it until it was tight enough for his purpose but easy enough that she could slip out of them if she needed to.

If she felt she had to.

He locked his gaze with hers as soon as the cuffs were in place and pulled her body closer to the edge of the washing machine, "So sexy, Liv," he shook his head in admiration of her stretched out body before him, the curve of her breast as her arms stretched high above her. That narrow waist.

"You plannin' on doing something or just browsing?" she teased.

He couldn't believe she was this confidant, this bold and sexy in such a vulnerable position especially when he knew this should have done her in, but perhaps not being in a bed, her legs free, her hands bound close instead of far apart, perhaps that made the difference.

He hoped so.

He kneeled on the floor of their laundry room, a basket of his children's clothes right next to him, their shed clothes strewn about. He watched her watch him and he couldn't help but smile as he greedily buried his mouth against her heat.

She instantly pulled down in an effort to hold his head but felt the restraint of the hand cuffs on her wrists. She moaned as his hands snaked under her thighs and rested on her hips, his tongue tracing her outer lips and slowly getting closer and closer to her center. She gasped the second she felt his tongue flick across her swollen center and immediately take hold sucking softly on her. She whimpered and pulled at her hands again, her restraint making it impossible for her to touch him, to direct his movements.

She was completely at his mercy.

She groaned, her head falling behind her as her hips rose up, her only option in getting closer to his mouth. He pulled back, only slightly and teased her, "Frustrated, Liv?"

"El," she panted, "take these off so I can touch you."

He grinned and ran his tongue from the top of her slit to the bottom, taking everything she had to offer him and even happier when she widened her hips, wrapped her foot over his shoulder and pulled him closer. "Please, Elliot," she moaned and dug her heel into his back, "oh, make me come right now."

He growled against her center, the vibrations resonating through her body, the washer adding a rhythmic jolting to their bodies as he sucked her skin just above her naked hair line and moved further to her naval, letting his tongue tickle her. She raised her hips up to him, the pressure on her wrist painful but the satisfaction she was getting, so worth it.

She whimpered as he took a nipple into her mouth and groaned the second he stood on his tiptoes and plummeted into her body. He took her breath away and she griped the small piece of wood the cuffs were looped over, "Oh," she panted and begged him to move, begged him to make her scream in a manner of minutes.

He was eager to comply.

He wrapped her legs around his waist and slammed into her body again, his sac colliding with the cool of the washer and she cried out in pleasurable pain, pleading for more. He moved, his hips rolling forward and back in hunger as he felt his legs burn from thrusting on his tip toes. "How do I feel, Liv?" he growled against her neck as he held her body, not willing to let all the weight and violence of his thrust rest on her wrists.

Her whimpers turned into a screech as he sped up and he took that as an answer. He pulled out, his body throbbing to be buried in her again and that was exactly what he did, pulled his wife harder over him.

"Kiss me," she pleaded.

"No," he grinned and continued to watch her just far enough that she couldn't stretch to kiss him but close enough that he could torture her.

He rubbed her thighs and stilled inside of her, looking at her, "You feel warm. Sexy, Liv."

She tried to wrap her arms around him out of habit and groaned when the cuffs stopped her, "I swear Elliot, if you don't make me come right now."

"You'll what?" he called her bluff and completely withdrew from her body.

"No!" she hissed and tried to pull him back into her with her legs, "Elliot, don't make me beg."

He kissed her mouth again, let his tongue play with hers as she continued to try and touch him, "Stop moving," he whispered, "you'll get a bruise and Casey will ask a million questions."

"If you don't make me come, right now, I'll kill you and then they'll really start to ask questions."

"You're impatient you know?"

"And don't understand what a quickie is," she countered and bucked her hips again. "Elliot, I swear if-"

He plummeted back into and moved as frantically and accurately as his body would let him, his fingertips buried into the flesh of her hips until her legs tightened around him, her moans escalating into whimpers and eventually a shriek as she came hard, her legs gripping him as she held ruthlessly to the piece of wood above her, "Elliot," she moaned and her body bucked against his, clamping down on him almost suddenly and he instantly gripped the washer with his hands trying desperately to keep his balance as he continued to move through her orgasm.

He finally gained control over his hips, his teeth sinking themselves into the cleavage of her breast and eliciting a small moan of satisfaction as she panted, "So good."

He chuckled, playfully swatted the side of her thigh and withdrew slowly from her careful not to allow himself to come even when she tried desperately to clench her muscles and keep him deep inside of her, "Elliot-"

"Shhhh," he told her and kissed her gently again before turning back to his pants and withdrawing the key from his pocket. He released her and she wrapped her arm around his neck as he continued to unlock the last cuff. He discarded the metal and raised her red wrist to his lips kissing the flesh gently, "Maybe I should have got those fluffy ones… wouldn't of hurt.'

She pulled back and grinned, "I liked it."

His smile was almost boyish as his eye lit up, "Really? You liked that? You thought it was hot?"

She drew in her bottom lip and released it after a small moment, "Definitely. But uh," she reached between them both and stroked his still hard body, his hips instantly thrusting into her hand. "Can I help you with this?"

"Please," he groaned and pulled her even closer to his body his previous thrusts having sent her back a little farther than he preferred.

She adjusted herself, wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders, her leg draped over his hip and he entered her, this time slowly and so seductively he'd changed the entire dynamic from fast and furious thrusting to the almost imperceptible in and out motion he could develop. She moved towrap her legs around his waist and he moved one leg away, spread her leg wide, her foot planted on the washer lid to get a full view of their bodies joining. She watched him watch them and she enjoyed every painstakingly slow movement he made, her body on display only for him.

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Mac exhaled, scrubbed his hand over his face and nodded, "I called the hospital, Sam."

"Is she okay?" Sam asked anxiously, "is she okay?"

"She is, yes. She broke her arm, but other than that, she's fine… you're story checked out, Sam."

"Of course it did," he whispered, "I wouldn't lie to you Uncle Mac."

"But you would ditch school, wouldn't you?"

Sam exhaled and leaned back in his chair, "You callin' my mom?"

"No-"

"Oh, thank you, Uncle Mac. Uggh, mom and dad would have flipped their lids."

"I'm taking you home, Sam."

Sam stilled immediately and licked his lips, "What?"

Mac crossed his arms over his chest, "That or you can have a uniform take you home."

Sam lowered his forehead to the table, "Do you know how long I'm gonna be grounded for this?"

Mac chuckled and helped the boy up, "I'm guessin' one to ten."

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Solomon's eyes opened up and he instantly brought his tiny fist to his face to rub the sleep away. He looked around, saw his sister snoozing in her bed across from him and he instantly furrowed his brows. He's been helping his mother and now he was in his bed?

How in the world did that happen and better yet, what was that sound?

He slid out of his small bed and darted across the hall to his mother's room, "Abie?" he whispered loudly, "Abie? Why you cryin'?" Solomon asked and trotted to his little brother's crib. "You mad, Abie?" he asked innocently and climbed on the bottom rail of the crib, his tiny hands pulling his body up against the slats so he could peer in and see his brother.

Solomon saw his brother stare up at the ceiling, his tiny face red as he cried, his limbs jerking as he breathed and hollered, "Oooh," Solomon nodded, "I get mommer, she fix you," he informed the small baby and jumped off of the crib running down the hall to the office, "Mommer?" he asked, looking around the small space and furrowing his brow. She wasn't in her room, or his room or the office. Where did he leave her?

"I forgetted," he exhaled and decided it wasn't that important anyway. What was really important was his blankie he saw on his mother's chair. He ran to it and tugged it off of the leather chair a big smile on his face as he draped it over his head completely covering his head and smelling the scent of fabric softener and then instantly pulling the blanket off remembering exactly where he left his mother.

He ran to the laundry room giggling, "Mommer!"

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"More, Elliot," Olivia panted, her thighs still spread wide as she watched him push in and out of her, "you feel so good."

Their bodies were coated in a thin sheen of sweat and he loved it. He loved running his hands along her body, squeezing her breast with one hand, holding her knee to keep her thigh wide with the other hand. He tossed his head back, his jaw clenched as he moved inside of her, "So good, Liv," he ground out.

She tried to keep her body steady with her elbows on the metal but his thrust had her bouncing right along with her breasts. She mirrored him, let her head fall back and enjoyed everything about him. Everything about this particular encounter as her body began to coil. He moved his hand and quickly found her center stroking her and assuring her how good it felt to be inside of her. She clenched her jaw, groaned and tossed back her head as her muscles began to pulse and she came, milking him until he came in a loud groan that kept his hips slapping against hers.

They had both released groans and then sudden gasps.

"Mommer" Solomon asked hesitantly. How long had he been standing there?

What was daddy doing like that? Why was mommer's leg like that? What was that?

Solomon looked at his father who obviously didn't know what to do and was trying everything he knew to shield his wife… inadvertently showing himself. Solomon pulled at the waistband of his shorts looking inside and then at his father. Dad looked different. Why was dad so different? Why was mommer, like that on the washing thing?"

"Mommer?"

"Get out!" Olivia shrieked, "Get out, Solomon!"

His tiny face crumbled. Why were his parent's yelling at him? He wanted to help his mother and she was yelling at him.

"Daddy, you hurtin' mommer?" Solomon cried, his tiny chest rising and falling quickly.

"No," Elliot shook his head and instantly bent for his pants as Solomon stood in an oversized shirt. His face covered in tears.

"Get out!" Olivia shrieked again trying desperately to curl up on the washer, shield her body from her son.

"But, Mommer."

"Solomon Stabler!" she shrieked, "Get out before I spank you!"

Solomon turned and bolted down the hallway. Never, ever had his mother ever told him she would spank him, but he knew one thing about his mother. She never said something she wouldn't do. He jammed as fast as his little body would let him. The office was closer than his room and he took an immediately beeline to it swooping up the blanket and huddling under his mother's desk.

For the first time, he was scared of his mother.

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"No. No. No. NO!" Olivia shook her head and slid off of the washing machine, "This isn't happening," she groaned and instantly put her bra over her form clasping it behind her. "Elliot, I yelled at him, did you see how scared he was?"

"I'm sorry," he told her and just as hurriedly slipped into his jeans.

"I can't believe he saw that," she shook her head slipping on a shirt, "he's got to be wondering a million things right now."

"He's three, he's probably not thinking much, other than the next time Ice cream is coming," he joked.

"This isn't funny!" she snapped and exhaled trying to calm herself, "I'm sorry, I… it was really amazing," she smiled sheepishly, "thank you for, um… the-"

He cut her off, kissed her softly, "Go see if he's okay." She nodded and moved to walk away, "Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"Pants?" he grinned and tossed them to her, she instantly slipped into them and groaned, "Abel is crying."

"Got it covered," he assured her as they both separated looking for their boys.

Elliot had calmed Abel before Olivia had discovered that Solomon hadn't gone back to his room, "Honey?" Olivia called gently and heard a small sniffle from the office. "Solo?" she whispered and stepped into the room looking around and noting that his blanket was gone, "Monster-boy? You in here? It's Mommer."

"I not in here," he called back to her.

She grinned at how innocently he'd given up his position, "You're not? Are you sure you're not under the desk?"

"I sure."

Olivia took a deep breath and kneeled on the floor, peering under the desk and smiling softly, "Hi."

He instantly covered his eyes with his hands and shook his head crying, "I sowry!"

"No, no, no," Olivia whispered and reached to him, pulling him close to her body as she stretched out on the floor, "No. I'm sorry Solomon, I got scared and I yelled. I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me?"

He sniffled and buried his face in her chest, "Daddy hurt you?"

"No," she assured him and ran her hand through his hair, "no, honey, not at all."

"Daddy got a pee pee?" he asked her innocently.

She smiled gently, "Yeah, he's a boy like you… I'm sorry I scared you."

Solomon looked between them and into his shorts again, "Daddy more bigger?"

Olivia's brows reached her hair line, "Well, daddy is a big man, so… yeah."

Solomon exhaled and snuggled close to his mother, "I not bad?"

"Nope. Not even a little."

"I amazin'?"

"The one and only," she smiled and wrapped her arms tightly around him, "Love you, Solo."

"Love you, Mommer."

"Liv!" Elliot bellowed from the hall, "Liv, I heard someone drive up… who is it? Can you see? I got Isaac's school on the phone!"

Olivia was happy for the reprieve, "Want to see whose at the door?" she grinned and he instantly crawled over her body seeming to forget about the trauma she'd thought for sure she'd inflicted on him. "I get it!"

She hurried after him, concerned as to why Isaac's school would be calling. She swatted her son's bottom playfully reminding him to ask who it was first but before he could she'd already seen the blue and red flashing through her window as the loud voice boomed through her front door, "NYPD."

Olivia furrowed her brows and looked through the window confused as to why Mac was standing on their porch with a uniformed officer and then it occurred to her that, while she had placed a call to the school to see about her son returning to class, they hadn't called her back.

But, no news was good news, wasn't it?

"Olivia, open up!" Mac called through the door and broke her out of her stupor. She unlocked the door and too her horror looked right at her son.

"Sam!" Olivia gasped and looked at her friend, "Mac, why are their handcuffs on my son?"


	15. Especially In The Chaos

Silver lining

Chapter 15: Especially In The Chaos

He glared at her and in that moment, he hated her. "Answer my question!" Robert shouted, his fist slamming onto the countertop of the kitchen. Alex was taken back by the gesture and literally jumped, bowed her head and stepped away in shame.

"Thomas is asleep," she said, barely able to muster a whisper. How had her marriage come to this? How could she have been so stupid as to step outside of her marriage vows and expect that Robert would have never been the wiser?

However, it was _his_ fault. Wasn't it? She had convinced herself of that. It was his fault because all he cared about since the day Thomas was born was getting him to church, and on the days when Robert snuck in his own visit to church against Alex's wishes and protests and flat out demands, on those days he was unbearably disgusting to her. His happiness, his smile and tenderness to her… infuriated her.

How could he? Who was he to come home, lecture her, and ask her to attend a session with him? To stand before a god who robbed them of their first child. Who was he to suddenly go and serve this god? Who was he to leave her in the wilderness of loss, without cause or concern for two years? To his credit, she knew in her heart that there was concern, but the reality was- she didn't care. Not anymore.

She knew the second he showed up at her job two hours early while she was dealing with a passed-out Isaac Stabler, she knew the second he confronted her with the truth that he'd known for weeks and that they were over.

She'd thrown their marriage away.

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"Aimee?" Carp exhaled, toed off his dress shoes and loosened his tie, "Aimee? Where are you? I was hoping we could talk about this morning… I wanted to take you and Soarin out tonight. Fin is covering for me," he explained as he walked through an empty home. "Aimee?" he called softly again and slowly opened the door to Soarin's nursery.

His son lay sleeping in his crib; a small, pale yellow blanket lay over his tiny chest to stave off the draft that managed to sail its way through the tiniest crack in the window just beyond the crib. He'd been meaning to fix it, but his job- the things his job did to him.

It took him away from so much. Changed him. Hardened him, somehow. Stressed him out and haunted him as he slept. "I didn't mean to hurt your mother," he whispered down at his son. "I really didn't," he assured him and tucked him in just a little tighter before dropping a feather light kiss on his temple and slowly, quietly leaving the room, crossing the hall and knocking gently on the master-bedroom door. "Aimee?" he called softly through the door. "Aimee… let me in, baby… please?"

When he didn't get an answer from within, he leaned his forehead on the door, licked his lips and exhaled, "I'm under a lot of stress at work," he explained and slowly opened the door when there was no reply from his wife at all. "Aimee… I've been working so much," he told her as she sat on her side of their double-bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. She wasn't crying, but from the looks of her face, her eyes swollen and her cheeks red, she was probably all out of tears to cry, "Aimee, I just-"

"Of course you are," she nodded sadly and tilted her head to look at him, "it's okay if you don't want me." She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I mean, we have our son now and I know I don't look the same as-"

"Why won't you believe me?" Carp asked in frustration that was bordering on anger. "You don't think I wasn't humiliated that I couldn't make love to you? That I wanted you and couldn't please you?"

She shook her head, licked her lips and began to cry softly, "I don't know what to think… I look like crap and… and it's like you didn't want me-"

"I wanted you," he told her, "I wanted you so much," he protested and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "I did… I want you every morning," he told her and gently let his finger rub along the arch of her foot. "This case is eating me alive and," he looked at her with a pleading face, "please… I wanted you, I don't know why I couldn't… stay… up," he finished in embarrassment.

"Maybe it's the stretch marks," she sniffled, her lips tight, "maybe it's the stretch marks or the chapped nipples, or the added weight or-"

He'd had enough.

He stood up in anger, "Or maybe!" he suddenly shouted as he stood to his feet, his anger hot and intense and pointed solely at his wife, "Maybe I'd just looked through pages and pages of a rape victims file!" he snapped, so forcefully his face turned bright red with fury in a matter of seconds.

"Carp," Aimee softened at the look of total confusion, rejection and anger on her husband's face, "Carp"

That did nothing to assuage his pain and frustration and inability to catch a rapist, "She looked just like you!" he shouted as he pointed at her. "She looked just like you! Sitting there in that hospital bed! And she's not gonna pull through! She's gonna die! And the only thing I could think was that I never wanted to see you like that!" he shouted, his hands flailing this way and that way for emphasis until he had nothing more to yell. He ran his hands over his face and dragged them roughly down his skin hoping to take all the misery of the day away from him.

Aimee furrowed her brow and stood, her face registering only regret that she didn't simply tend to his needs this morning that she didn't just stop and listen when he started talking about work.

Something he didn't do in the confines of their bed.

But, this morning had been different, he'd turned to her and needed to talk and needed to stare at her to remind himself that she was not the woman who lay dying in the ICU, unable to talk or communicate her needs or fears. He'd turned to his wife and needed to talk.

She turned to him and initiated sex, thinking it would make things better for him.

Having no idea what SVU could truly do to someone. How it could shatter them on the inside and leave the person operating as a semi-functional human being on the outside, the shattered pieces of them held together only by thinning skin and fragments of control.

Aimee stood in front of him, her hands gently caressing his cheeks, "Look at me, please?"

"Aimee-"

"Carpideum, please look at me," she told him and gently brought his face up to look at her. "I'm sorry."

He exhaled, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close to him and she knew he was trying to hide his tears, his frustration and sadness with his job. The humiliation of her accusation. The sting of it. "I wanted you," he whispered softly, taking a deep breath and puffing it out before he collapsed his body on the bed, letting his head bounce on the mattress as his arms fell to the side.

Aimee slowly stretched out next to him, "What can I do for you?" she asked softly, her hand resting on his navel. "I'm still kind of new at this whole wife thing… tell me what I can do to make you feel better."

He drew in his bottom lip, curled the bicep she was resting on and pulled her closer to his body, his lips kissing her forehead before expelling a steady controlled breath, "Tell me you understand that I wanted to make love to you. That I think you are the sexiest woman on this planet. Tell me you know I wanted you this morning."

She propped herself up on her elbow, caressed the side of his face with her hand and kissed his mouth softly, her lips pressing against his for a small section in time before pulling back slowly, "I know you wanted me this morning. I'm sorry I made this bigger than what it was."

Carp looked at her and smirked, "You women make things very difficult, you know that?"

She grinned down at him, "I take it from your smart alec remark you're already feeling better?"

He took a deep breath, hooked his free hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close to him, "Aimee?"

The seriousness in his voice caused her brows to furrow as her hand covered his forearm, "What is it? What's still bothering you?"

His eyes searched hers and he leaned in for a gentle, deeper kiss. His tongue swiping across her lower lip and encouraging her mouth to open. He kissed her softly, a kiss built on forgiveness and love before pulling back, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes closed, jaw flexing, "Tell me you're not her. Tell me you're not in a hospital room, dying."

She pulled back just long enough to lock eyes with him, her fingers running through his thick black hair, "I can't be her, because I'm your wife," she whispered. "And I can't be in a hospital bed because I'm here in your arms."

His exhalation of breath was startling, as if he actually believed his wife lay dying instead of next to him. His body finally went limp with relaxation and he simply laid there for long minutes until he thought it was safe enough to talk. Until he realized she really was his wife. In his arms. Next to him.

Alive.

"How was Soarin today?" he whispered softly, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

"He was fussy… wanted his daddy," she smiled softly and rubbed his chest with her hand, "You're off tomorrow, right?"

"Right," he nodded and covered her hand with his, held her hand over his beating heart, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Aimee."

"Water under the bridge," she smiled and kissed him through his dress shirt. "Tomorrow, I'm going to make you an amazing breakfast and then I'm going to take you and Soarin to the park and we'll have a good time, just us. No work, no problems, just us."

He nodded sleepily, "Sounds good… I wanted to take you out today-"

"The only thing you should do today is rest… we'll have fun tomorrow morning, we can talk after the park and then we have that bar-b-que for Chloe's birthday at the Stabler's house."

He took a deeper breath in through his nose and let it go as his body gave way to sleep, "Kay," he whispered and drifted.

Aimee smiled softly and withdrew his service weapon from his hip, engaging the safety and putting it in the lock box in his nightstand before kissing him gently on the mouth, loosening his tie for him and letting him rest as she gently removed his shoes.

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Olivia couldn't wrap her head around the fact that her thirteen-year-old son was standing on their porch, flanked by cops, handcuffed. Her mind raced as she stared at him, shock clearly evident in her features, she took a deep breath and let her eyes flit between her friend and a cop with a mustache before returning to her son who stood before her petrified, shaking and from the looks of his face. In pain.

Olivia took a step closer to him, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and felt him jump under her touch, she pulled him closer to her, dropped a kiss between his brows and let her lips linger there, "No matter what happened, I love you," she assured him and felt her lips burn against his skin. A familiar taste.

She pulled back and looked at Mac in anger, "Who pepper-sprayed him!" she demanded.

"Olivia-"

"What the- Mac?" Elliot's voice came from behind her and Sam instantly began to cry and then suddenly scream as he fell to his knees, he raised his cuffed hands in front of him and tried desperately to sooth his eyes.

"Stop!" Elliot commanded and kneeled in front of Sam, "Get these off of him, now!" he yelled up at the mustached officer as Sam labored in pain on the porch, the pepper-spray residue re-activated with every tear he produced.

"Olivia," Mac shook his head helplessly, "I'm sorry. He's out of control."

"Get them off!" Elliot barked and stood, immediately toe-to-toe with the mustached officer, "Now!"

"He broke my partner's nose," the officer replied calmly. "We tried removing the cuffs at the precinct and in the cruiser and he flipped as soon as I asked him why he attacked that girl-"

"LIAR!" Sam shouted up, struggling to stand, "you bastard! I didn't do anything to her!"

"Sam!" Olivia barked, "That's enough!"

"I didn't do it!" he hollered and swung his cuffed hands at the officer's voice, "I didn't do it! You're a liar, damnit!"

Roughly, Elliot pulled Sam to him, found his ear with his lips, "Stop right now!" he demanded firmly, "You're going to make this worse than what it already is-"

"But, he's li-"

"Shut. Your. Mouth," Elliot told him firmly and squeezed him, "I love you, but if you want these off," he told him and softly tugged at the metal bracelets, "you've got to be quiet and let mom and me handle this."

"Dad," Sam sniffled and found his father's ear with his own lips, "Dad, he's lying, I didn't attack Crystal. I promise you."

"Crystal?" Elliot pulled him back gently and looked past him to their family friend, "Mac, please… take them off, there is a huge misunderstanding, there's got to be."

Mac took a step forward and exhaled, "Elliot, there is a misunderstanding, we did get it cleared but… he won't settle down. We take the cuffs off and he looses it."

"Take. Them. Off," Olivia ordered, "Now! If you truly thought something was seriously wrong, if the cop was gonna press charges you would have booked him already, but you've brought him home, which means you know something isn't right, but it's not criminal, Mac. Un-cuff him!"

Sam sniffled, "Please, Uncle Mac, I won't hit."

"Mac," Olivia pleaded in a whisper, "Please… tell him to un-cuff him."

Mac turned to the officer, a sharp, authoritative nod, "Get them off."

"Detective he-"

"Get them off!" he demanded and Sam jumped, startled at the command in his Uncle's voice.

The mustached officer exhaled, withdrew his key and looked down at the teen-aged boy, regret that he'd inflicted pain on a boy who couldn't see in the first place, "Mrs. Stabler," he said softly as he raised Sam's cuffed hands, "If… if it's any comfort to you," he said turning the small skeleton key in the cuff and setting one hand free before moving to the next, "I didn't know he was blind."

Olivia exhaled, staring at the cuff that was still wrapped around her son's wrist, "We're all trained the same way… but if he fought, there was a reason."

The officer freed his last hand and apologized to the family once again, "I'm sorry. He, just… the report said he'd attacked a girl on the-"

"I DIDN'T ATTACK HER!" Sam shouted and turned to his voice, shoving him hard and raising his fist to strike.

Elliot grabbed his hand from behind, placed his arm across his waist and picked him up, turning instantly and withdrawing his son from the altercation, ushering his screaming and kicking body down the hall, stumbling on Solomon's sneaker as they passed through the kitchen, "Sam, stop it!" Elliot demanded, his body weight over his son as they crashed to the floor, trying desperately to control the boy, who in his rage, had the strength of a man.

"Leave," Mac informed the officer, "I'll deal with it,"

"Detective that is highly unorthodox-"

"Do you know what is unorthodox?" Mac snapped as Olivia bolted to help control, Sam, "It's when a piece of shit cop peppers a blind kid because his ass-hole partner didn't take the time to ask the girl what the hell happened! Now, get the hell out of here unless you've changed your mind and are planning on bookin' that kid."

"SAM STOP!" Olivia shouted at him as he reached behind him, grabbing Elliot's head and neck and trying desperately to get away.

"Sam!" Elliot barked, "Knock it off!" he told him and pried his son's hand off of his neck, fighting to pin it to the linoleum floor.

Sam pulled harder with his other hand, "Get off of me!" he yelled fighting desperately to bend his legs, to crawl, to get away.

"Get the fuck off of me, White!" he barked and moved his legs more frantically, trying every desperate release his mother had showed him, using his feet, his free hand, his head, "GET OFF!" he shouted.

"LIV HELP!" Elliot barked out of breath his body aching with this fight, "Hold him!"

Olivia covered them both instantly, stretching her body along them and she never thought she would be in this position, restraining her son as if he were a perp. She moved to Sam's left side, Elliot to his right. Elliot held Sam's arm out straight at his shoulder, his left leg between Sam's, pinning him as Olivia mirrored the procedure on his left.

"What can I do?" Mac asked gently, "let me help,"

"GET AWAY!" Sam screeched and slammed his head into the kitchen floor, "get away from me! Let me go!"

"Mac," Elliot shook his head struggling for control, "Wait for us in the other room. Get out of here!"

"Sam," Olivia lowered her head next to his, "Sam," she softened her voice, holding tightly to his body to ensure he couldn't move, "Sam, we love you," she assured him, "we love, you so much."

"Let me go!" he growled, salvia slipping from his lips like a rabid dog, "let me go!"

"No," she whispered softly again. "I love you, from the minute I saw you in your karate outfit, I fell in love with you and when you came to us, I fell deeper in love with you."

"Let me go!" he squirmed again, his voice breaking as he struggled and tried desperately to get free.

"Sam stop!" Elliot demanded and to his horror Sam reared his head back, striking Olivia in the mouth, blood instantly making itself evident. She moaned, her eyes instantly pooling with the shock of it, and positioned her head right next to his ear again as Elliot found his opposite ear and they both overwhelmed their combative son with their voices.

"I love you," Elliot whispered, "I love you and I remember taking you to the store and you wanted shoes like your mom and me," he said and rubbed his cheek against the back of Sam's head as the teenager kept his cheek to the ground.

"I remember," his mother started, "how excited you were when you went the zoo with Alex and Robert, your smile was so big in the pictures and all I could do was love you even more."

He sniffled, tried to fight again but the only thing to come out of his rigid body was a sob, a brutal cry that conveyed to his parent's more fear and frustration than he had ever had. He cried, his pain slamming into his parent's hearts as they remained over his body careful not to inadvertently suffocate their son by applying too much pressure to his back, "You're gonna be okay," Elliot whispered, "I love you so much, Samuel that I gave you my name. I gave it to you because I knew you'd never let me down. You'd never do anything for me to regret that decision and you still haven't. Do you understand? I still love you and there is nothing you can do about it…except accept it."

With each sob, his swimmer-built body began to relax a sure sign that he was crashing, which was exactly what they were waiting for, "It's okay to be afraid," Olivia assured him and felt comfortable enough run her hand through his hair, turn away from him for a moment to wipe her bleeding lip on her shoulder. She turned back to him and kissed his temple, nuzzled his ear with her nose, "It's okay to be afraid, but we're not here to hurt you, baby," she assured him, "I promise you. I can feel you're body relaxing, I can feel it and I love that you're trying to calm down even when you're scared."

"Mommy?" Hannah whispered, "What doin' to my broder?"

"Mac!" Elliot called, "Get her out of here!"

"Sister!" Sam hiccupped, "Hannah!"

"Let her stay," Olivia shook her head, "Let her stay."

"Busted, Sammy?" Hannah asked and decided she'd join the monkey pile, jumping innocently on Sam's back and laughing into his neck, oblivious to the fact that his parent's had just wrestled him to the ground like an enraged suspect, "Big time out," Hannah teased him and kissed his cheek.

"Please," Sam whispered, "please let my hand go."

Hannah giggled, "Wrestle mania!" she clapped her pudgy hands, "I Lita! Tag, Sammy."

He sniffled, "Dad, please let me touch her."

Slowly, Elliot freed his arm and just as quickly as Sam had burst into anger, he blossomed into sensitive touch, seemingly fueled by the love of his sister. He cried softly, his body tired and relaxed, no longer rigid with terrified anger and adrenaline, but in pain from the sting of pepper spray.

Olivia took a deep breath and slowly, gently removed her arm from his, swung her leg from off of his and kneeled, prepared to scoop in on her daughter if she needed to. To her surprise, just as Elliot had lifted the rest of his weight off of his son, Sam reached back and touched his sisters face, felt the curl in her lips that indicated a smile, "You saved me, Nannah."

She giggled, "You wakded me up, playin' with mommy and daddy. I'na play too."

He lifted himself, turned over on his back to face his sister and bent his knees, crawling backward with her straddling him until he hit the wall and started to cry out of exhaustion, frustration and total confusion and anger.

Hannah gasped and raised her hands to his face, he stopped her immediately as soon as he felt the contact, "I got something on my face that'll make you hurt, Hannah," he sniffled as Olivia and Elliot caught their breath on the floor, still not totally convinced Sam was well enough to be left alone, and definitely not with Hannah.

"You sad?" she asked softly and leaned into him, resting her three-year-old body over his chest and hugging him, "I makded you beder, broder," she assured him and tightened her hold on him, saving him just like he'd saved her two and a half years ago. He wrapped his arms around her small waist and cried against his sister, shaking and afraid and unable to see his parents, worn out, equally as afraid and shaking just feet away.

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"Who is he?" Robert snapped, his arms folded across his chest, his jaw set, his eyes dark, "answer me, Alex!"

She leaned forward in a kitchen chair, her elbows resting on her thighs, "There isn't an 'is'," she whispered, "It's only a 'was',"

She shook his head in misery and disappointment, "is that supposed to make me feel better? Is it supposed to make me feel better that you only screwed another man a few times and now it's over!"

She stood, resigned to the fact that he would leave her, the truth was if the shoe was on the other foot she'd leave him castrated and alone without a second thought. But here, in the wake of her affair that she tried to hide and he somehow fond out about, there is only one thing she can do.

Leave, before he can leave her.

"Where are you going, Alex!" Robert snapped in frustration. "You owe me a damn explanation!" he hollered and gasped when she emerged with their son in her arms, "You're not taking him!" Robert growled at her, "You don't whore yourself out to the whole of Manhattan and expect to get my son!" he yelled, slamming his hands on the counter-top, a glass of vodka he'd poured to sooth him, bouncing and sloshing out of the glass.

She glared at him as Thomas woke in her arms, "He's my son, too," she said calmly in kissed the crown of her son's head tenderly.

"Give him to me!" Robert snapped, walking angrily to her and trying to pull him from her arms.

"Stop it!" she shrieked and Thomas instantly began to cry, his father's hands squeezing his body too tight for his appreciation. "You're hurting him!" she screamed.

"Give him to me!" Robert demanded and tried to pull him free again.

"Mommy!" Thomas hiccupped and screamed, holding tight to her.

She pulled back with one hand, let it fly through the air and punched her husband square in the face, moving past him the instant he raised his hands to his nose and groaned. She grabbed the keys from the counter, her son crying against her as he straightened and moved after her.

"Al! You can't leave!" he yelled and chased after her. The slam of the front door his only gift for his labor before he launched the glass of vodka against the wood, the shattered glass falling to the floor into a liquid pile and he was sure if he searched through the carnage just long enough, he'd find his heart and somewhere next to that must be his spirit.

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"Does it hurt?" Elliot asked softly as he dabbed his wife's bottom lip with a que-tip of Neosporin.

"Feels like it's swelling," she admitted. "He's gotten so strong," she said softly, wincing and pulling back when too much pressure was applied.

"I remember," Elliot smiled gently, "when we used to control him by his buckle-loops... he was so easy."

"He's terrified," Olivia sniffled and shook her head, "he's so angry and I don't understand what's happening. I don't understand what's triggering it."

Elliot exhaled, pulled her close, "He's sleeping now. He'll be okay, Liv. Mac's waiting to explain it to us."

"He's exhausted," she agreed, taking in a breath, taking in her husbands scent and comfort, "I don't know what to do for him, why isn't Mags working?"

"She is, Liv," he assured her, "could you imagine what this would be like if he didn't see her?"

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"She just dropped him off?" Paul asked Casey softly, "Why would Alex just drop Isaac off? Why did she have Isaac in the first place? School isn't even out… Casey, what's going on?"

Casey shook her head and exhaled, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch and placing it over Isaac as he slept, "I have no idea what's happening, all I know is Isaac apparently flipped out at school and Alex… she looked like hell, you should have seen her face."

Paul licked his lips, stared down at Isaac and smiled gently, "He's gotten so big."

Casey chuckled and leaned against Paul, both looking at the young boy who seemed to be sleeping well in spite of the melt-down Alex told her he had. "Alex said he passed out… freaked out and just… lost it but that she didn't have time to drive him all the way to the Stablers or wait for them… something's up with her and I'm puling it out of her at that bar-b-que," Casey chuckled to herself.

Paul exhaled, sat softly on the edge of the couch and rest his hand on Isaac's belly, "We need to call, tell them he's okay."

Casey rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezed him softly and kissed the top of his head, "I already called Elliot, he was on the other line with the school, and he said he had to go that someone was at the door. I told him we'd bring Isaac by tonight."

Paul continued to stare at the little boy, his thoughts drifting back to a time when he lay helpless on the hallway floor, his leg busted, and his blood seeping from his body…. His grip slipping from Isaac's body.

"Where'd you go?" Casey whispered, her hand grazing her husband's shoulder blade.

He shook his head, barely noticeable, but definite just the same, "Hmm?"

She smiled sadly, kissed the crown of his head and let her lips linger there, "You did everything you could that night. Everything."

"Sometimes," he said softly and pulled his wife over his lap, his chin resting on her shoulder, "sometimes, when I look at him… that night… it overwhelms me, Casey. Seeing you on the floor…" he let his voice wander off before resting his forehead on her shoulder blade and exhaling. "And then you on the bridge… I almost lost you twice," he sniffled and held her still in front of him when she tried to move and comfort him. He held his face against her, his arms wrapped around her, not wanting her to see him in shambles simply because there is a five-year-old on their couch.

Who, because of him, almost died.

He embraced her tightly and caught his breath, "Sometimes, I think… If I'd just held on a little tighter, you know?"

She twisted in his tight embrace, dropped her strawberry lips over his rough stubble and sipped softly from his bottom lip, "You held on as tight as you could, for as long as you could and that's all that matters."

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"You excited about the bar-b-que?" Donovan asked, a playful smack on his wife's bottom as she washed the dishes.

Chloe jumped, laughed softly and continued to wash the dishes. Donovan exhaled and wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, "I don't know why you've been sad… but, if you wanted to tell me, I'd listen. I'd listen for as long as it took for you to tell me, and even more after that," he assured her, a delicate kiss placed on her neck as his hands covered hers in the soapy water, "Stop working, sweetie. Stop. I'll take care of that later," he assured her and withdrew her warm hands from the water, reaching for the towel and helping her dry them.

She turned to face him, decided she really couldn't and looked over his shoulder, watching as her little brother, Mathew watched Sesame Street. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to worry you."

Donovan cupped Chloe's chin, kissed her lips tenderly, "Where's my wife? What happened to make her so sad? How can I fix it? How can I make you grin?"

She laughed then, laughed because her husband was never one for fancy lines no matter how hard he tried, "You just did," she whispered and kissed him back, her tongue flicking across his lips. "I'm happy to be seeing the Stabler's, yes."

He beamed against her, "Two birthdays in a month for you… does this mean I get to give you another present?" he waggled his brows and pulled her close to him, "we could shoot for two orgasms… Elliot says it's possible."

She blinked rapidly, lowered her face and sidestepped him, "I'm really tired, Donovan," she whispered, walking away and kissing Mathew on the top of his head, "Donovan, can you make sure he goes to bed on time?" she asked and didn't wait for an answer before walking away.

Donovan leaned against the counter of the kitchen, crossed his arms over his chest and exhaled. He's not sure just what has happened to her. He knows that she went to spend time with the ladies and almost immediately returned home, sick but had recovered after a few days.

Physically anyway.

Emotionally, well, that was a different story wasn't' it? They haven't made love for weeks and while his hand isn't remotely close to the satisfaction his wife brings, he is insistent on never pushing her when she doesn't feel the desire to make love. She has remained quiet, pensive, her thoughts often hovering over their meal time, suffocating their time with Mathew and killing the conversations they normally had before she fell asleep in his arms.

Which is a place she hasn't been for a while.

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"I don't understand why they think Sam attacked Crystal," Olivia shook her head as Elliot sat next to her on the couch.

Mac took a small sip of water from a bottle they'd given him, "Hannah sure has a way with him."

Elliot smirked, "Way to change the subject, but yeah… she can calm any of the men in the family… she's like her mother."

Olivia nudged him playfully and then exhaled the seriousness of the situation very evident. "What happened to our son today, Mac?"

Mac took a deep breath, exhaled it in one puff and looked at his two best friends, "The transit police got a call that a teenage couple was arguing… yelling at one another on the platform. Witnesses said Sam almost walked into the train as it was moving."

Olivia's eyes bulged as Elliot wrapped his arm around her and squeezed her tightly in reassurance, "Nothing happened to him, Liv. He's okay. Nothing happened."

Olivia took a breath, gathered her composure and cleared her throat, "How did PD get in on it?"

"The two officers had just busted a perp pick pocketing… they chased them into the tunnel before loosing track. They were moving back into the city and they saw the transit cops running-"

"They got to him first," Elliot said softly and turned to his wife.

"Yeah, only this time… there was no pissing match, transit backed off and let PD have the case… lunch time, you know?"

Olivia furrowed her brows and exhaled, scrubbing her face with her hands, "Why was he sprayed?"

Mac pulled in his bottom lip, "Witnesses said Sam… was on top of Crystal-"

"What?" Elliot's eyes bulged.

"There's got to be a mistake-"

"I believe there was," Mac nodded and shifted in his seat. "From what I gathered from the police that arrested Sam, he was on top of her, but on his back-"

"Not attacking her," Elliot nodded sharply. "He wouldn't do something like that Mac. You know that about him, we're raising him right."

Olivia rested her hand on Elliot's thigh, reassuring him in his cresting anger.

"You did," Mac assured them both and scooted further to the edge of his seat, a small smile. "You both raised your boy to be a good man and a typical teenager. He ditched class," Mac smiled, "now, I'm not sure why he was taking the subway, but apparently, from what I'm thinking and what he told me, Crystal pulled him back, he fell on top of her. He said she was hurt and he tried to help her up… felt someone grab him from behind."

"Cop?"

"Yeah," Mac exhaled and his face contorted in worry.

"What?" Olivia asked, eyeing him carefully, "what is it?"

Mac's eyes flit between Elliot and Olivia not sure how to broach the subject.

"Mac!" Olivia's nerves becoming more and more raw as the minutes passed. "Tell us what happened to our son!"

Mac took a breath, "Olivia," his eyes panned to Elliot. "Elliot he freaked out. Tossed his head back and broke the cop's nose-"

"Did the cop identify himself before he touched him?" Elliot asked, "Because Sam wouldn't do something like that if he knew he was a cop."

"I think," Mac exhaled, "that's why the cop isn't doing anything about it, Elliot."

"Wait-" Elliot shook his head, "if nothing is being done… why was he brought home in cuffs?"

Mac furrowed his brows, "How's he been doing with the White situation?"

Olivia straightened, "What? White? What's he got to do with anything?"

"Well," Mac shook his head, "when the cop pulled Sam up, Sam lost it. He started demanding that he be let go… he called the cop, White… said, 'let me go White,'."

Olivia exhaled, leaned into the couch, "He goes to counseling, at least once a week and sometimes more when he's having a hard time… I should have noticed that he's been asking to go more frequently."

"Do you get to talk to him about it very much?" Mac asked softly.

"We ask," Elliot admitted, "but, sometimes… I don't know, he worries so much about everyone else that he never takes the time to just talk with us."

Mac nodded, "He's very worried about Crystal… he doesn't want her to think he tried to hurt her."

"Was she hurt?" Elliot asked, dreading the response.

Mac nodded again, "Yes, but not necessarily because of Sam… she pulled him back, they lost their balance and he fell on her."

"Fell?" Olivia whispered and exhaled shaking her head, "He fell. Good. Fell."

"Olivia," Mac stood and smiled softly at her, "You both have spent an incredible amount of time raising that boy to be a man… he is. He's just confused, he needs you guys to talk with him-"

"We talk with him, Mac," Olivia stood and ran her hand through her hair, "We talk, but… I don't know what's happening with him… he talks, but… he's so selective sometimes."

Mac smiled softly, placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder as Elliot stood, "Look, Sam needs to talk to someone, and it's either gonna be you guys or Mags… he's got some residual effects of White no matter what he wants to admit. I did call the hospital and Crystal's parents… she wants to talk to him."

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"Casey has Isaac," Elliot said softly as Olivia curled up next to him on the couch and buried her face in his chest.

"Do I want to know what happened?"

Elliot exhaled, kissed the top of her head, "He was sent to a time out. Freaked out."

She furrowed her brows and shook her head, "The glasses… they were supposed to fix that."

Elliot shook his head and pulled her close, "I don't know what's happening with our boys, Liv."

She sniffled, "Me neither, I don't know what to do for them. Maybe we shouldn-"

Elliot furrowed his brows, the confusion in his wife's voice evident, "Shouldn't what?"

She swallowed, "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" he asked, so thoroughly confused he didn't know what else to say. "Tell you what?" he said softly again and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear.

She closed her eyes, leaned her forehead against his, "Tell me… we made the right choice about Abel, even with all the chaos that is happening right now. Tell me we made the right choice."

He closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around the base of her skull and pulled her even closer until he pursed his lips and gently kissed her mouth, careful of the split, "We made the right choice."

She nodded softly against him and exhaled, "I love you."

His smile was soft "I love you too, Liv… why don't you go lay down, relax a little bit and I'll clean up in here and check on Sam?"

She shook her head in disagreement, "No, no. I don't want to sleep, I just… I want to check on Sam, make sure he's okay… try to figure out what's gotten into him."

"LIv?" Elliot whispered softly and kissed her tenderly, "promise me something?"

She peered up at him, his hands finding her way to caress her face. She covered his forearms with her hands and trained her eyes on his blue ones. "Anything."

"Don't let this overshadow the laundry room… don't forget about it, okay? Don't forget that you enjoyed it and th-"

She grinned, gently removed his hands from her face and placed them on her hips, rubbing his forearms gently, "Go on a date with me… tonight."

He smiled softly, "The kids-"

"I'll figure something out… just, you and me. Let's go on a date."

He chuckled softly, cupped the back of her head in his hand and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

She closed her eyes, enjoyed the comfort his body against hers gave her and let him hold her, she smiled against his flesh as they began to move softly, "You dancin' with me Stabler?"

"Absolutely," he whispered against her temple, "I'm dancing with you, because… you're amazing."

She grinned, exhaled softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I like this… even in all the chaos-"

"Especially in all the chaos," he corrected softly and rubbed the small of her back with the flat of his hand.

She nodded softly against his chest, "Mmm, yeah. Especially in the chaos… I like you close to me."

"I love you, Olivia," he whispered over her, her hair tickling him just under his nose. "Don't run from me. Promise me you won't run."

She blinked. Furrowed her brow and pulled back gently, her fingers rubbing absently along his neck, "Why would you say that?" she asked gently, a small shake of her head before her lips touched him gently, "I have no reason to run. I'm perfectly fine with you, dancing to no music," she kissed him softly again, "in our room, with our son in deep trouble," she smiled small, nuzzled her nose against his. "I'm perfectly fine, right here with you, with Isaac coming later tonight and our monsters napping… I'm fine," she assured him and kissed his mouth again, sipping tenderly from his lower lip as his hands held tighter to her waist, "I'm fine with a little boy in his crib, that I don't know very well. I'm fine, Elliot. Not running. I promise."

He closed his eyes, swallowed gently and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. He'd heard what she said, but the reality was, Olivia had a reputation. "Don't run from me, Liv. It'll kill me."

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Samuel Stabler was becoming a man right in front of his parents' eyes. Day by day, growing out shoes, pants and shirts. Even his Speedo's. His face, at the young age of thirteen was already becoming chiseled, a square set jaw with perfect lips that were just as strawberry as his little sister's that, before Olivia placed her back in her own bed, had laid stretched out next to him as they both slept peacefully in his twin bed. His bed that his feet were hanging over the foot of the mattress.

Olivia took in a slow deep breath and sat on the edge of Isaac's bed. In the back of her mind, she knew that Isaac had a rough day at school too and while she didn't know why Alex had dropped him off at Casey's she knew he was safe and so, her nerves were slightly calmed as she pulled her legs up, crossing them in front of her, Indian style, before resting her elbows on corresponding knees and lacing her hands together to rest her chin on her hands.

She stared at him. Catalogued every small move he made as he slept, the furrow of his brow that told her he was stressed out, hurting and confused. The rise and fall of his swimmer's chest. She wondered momentarily if his chest was supposed to be that defined. If his abs were already supposed to be cutting through his skin, if his biceps are already supposed to be as solid as they were, but then she took into consideration his desire to practice, to be in the pool gliding smoothly through water like a Coast Guard cutter, stroke after stroke flip after flip until she virtually would have to pull him out of the water. She took that into consideration and then decided that his body is becoming an art form that he takes his time to build and perfect and has no idea that the women will swarm him when he's twenty.

She decided that he is her son and he's perfect and amazing and beautiful.

But what has happened to him today? What has brought him to this point? His face still an angry red from the pepper spray, his ribs already sporting the signs of bruising from an over eager cop's attempt to pull him off of Crystal.

To pull him away from helping his friend. Because there is no way he would have hurt her on purpose. No way.

She tilted her head to the side as he turns to his side in his sleep. And she sees it. The reason he is who he is. A little boy who at one moment is fearless and the very next petrified. She unfolded her legs, stood slowly and kneeled as quietly as she could next to his bed, her slender fingers reached out and touched his back, her index finger gliding along a scar left there, possibly by his father, perhaps one of his grandparents.

She memorized his back, how it had changed as he'd grown, his shoulder blades, clearly defined with muscle instead of lack of food, his neck and shoulder muscles developing with each new day, but the scars- no matter how much muscle he'd put on, no matter how much taller than her he grew, no matter how long he stayed submerged in the gym's pool.

They never washed away.

She wondered, momentarily, if this might be odd- touching her half naked son this way as he slept, she wondered that, and then cast it to the side as her middle finger traced the circumference of a burn, the rise of flesh that had been marred by cruelty at a tender age.

"I can feel the water against them when I swim."

She startled at the sound of his voice and pulled her hand back slightly, her eyes assessing him, "Sam-"

"I can feel the current against them sometimes and… I think maybe one day the water will take them away," he told her softly.

"How long have you been awake, son?" she asked gently and was surprised when he simply turned to face her voice, his legs drawing up into the fetal position.

He exhaled, tucked his hands near his chin, "Long enough to know that you still sing to Hannah when you pick her up, and… I guess long enough to know that you're really pissed at me."

Olivia furrowed her brows and ran her hand through his chlorine lightened hair, "Your language has gotten as bad as mine," she said softly and let her thumb rub slowly along his brow.

"Mom," Sam swallowed, his face falling downcast with worry, "are you… angry with me?"

She let her eyes examine his body from her much closer position, the old scars, fresh bruises; his wrists had red welts from his time in cuffs.

"Mom-"

"I'm getting pretty old, Sam," she whispered.

"And I finally disappointed you a lot, now?" he asked, his brows twisting up in worry and pain, "I finally, made you regret-"

"I'm too old to be kneeling on this floor like this," she told him. "I was wondering, if you might scoot over a bit and let me lay next to you like when you were a little boy?"

Sam moved his body immediately and even scooted his head to the near edge of his pillow so he could share it with his mother. He felt the mattress dip with her weight, felt the heat her body gave and accepted it as comfort as her hand caressed his cheek, her lips at his forehead, "I'm not angry, no," she whispered against his forehead and rested her head on the pillow.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I don't like… not knowing what is going on in your mind, it makes me nervous… am I in trouble?"

His nose was perfect, the way it curved at the tip, his eye lashes were as long as Isaac's and his brows were perfect. Somewhere a long the line, he'd gotten a few freckles, his skin had darkened just a bit and finally, he'd stopped biting his nails.

"Mom-"

"I don't like," she began quietly, "not knowing what's going on in your mind either, only it doesn't make me nervous Sam… it worries me."

His jaw grew slack, his brows arched, "I-I don't want you to worry, mom."

"And I do want you to be afraid… why are you afraid, son?"

"I'm fearless, mom," he protested. "You told me when I was a boy that that was what I am. That's what I am."

She searched his face, smelled the residue of pepper spray and underneath that his soap and shampoo that he used and under that the chlorine that seemed to always be in his skin, but even deeper than that, the detective in her smelled something that had been cleverly hidden under anger and fowl language and even disobedience.

She smelled his fear.

"You are afraid, son-"

"No, I'm not!" he protested with more strength. "I'm n-"

She rest her hand over her head "It's okay to be," she told him gently. "Its okay to be, Sam, you're a boy-"

"I'm a man!" he argued angrily as if he had something to prove to his mother.

"And even a man can be afraid," she told him, kissing his forehead tenderly, still tasting the pepper spray but letting her lips linger. "And even a man, if he's truly a man, will admit when he's afraid."

He sniffled then, in the presence of his mother, in the privacy of his room, "Don't tell dad, I'm afraid. Please, mom. Don't tell dad."

She continued to rake her fingers through his hair, "He's very worried about you."

"I'm a man, mom. We can't be afraid-"

"Who told you that lie?" she asked him, propping her body up on her elbow, "Who? I didn't. Your father didn't. Who told you?"

He drew in his bottom lip trying to figure out, himself, how he'd come to such a flawed conclusion. Slowly, he shook his head, "I-I don't know." He sat up in his bed slowly, shook his head before bowing it and drawing his knees up and suddenly sobbing into his own body as if attempting to hide from his mother. Attempting to hide from the one person he wanted most in the world at this moment.

She pushed herself up, wrapped her arms around him and pulled, with much effort, his body to her and held him in her embrace, her hand cradling his head as he sobbed against her shoulder, the pepper spray adding a physical pain to his emotional one. She kissed the crown of his head gently and felt her eyes blur with her own tears, "It's okay to be afraid," she whispered and continued to rock him, "it's okay to be afraid and it's okay to try and figure things out on your own, but… it's not okay to stay in the desert honey. It's not okay and I won't let you do it anymore."

He sobbed harder into her body and in spite of his muscular frame, his set jaw and strong arms, he clung to her as if he were eight years old all over again, "I'm so angry all the time," he cried, "I'm so angry, and I hate my mother and I hate my grandmother and I hate my grandfather and I hate my father and I hate them all! And I _fucking_ _hate_ White!" he sobbed and then, as if he knew he'd broken a rule, as if he thought, in his distress his mother wouldn't give him grace for using language so uncommon to their family, he wept bitterly, holding onto her with everything he had within him.

She felt his hands, his arms close in around her waist as she held him, felt the warmth of his tears and the heat of his breath against her chest. She rubbed his back, comforting him as he heaved for air in her arms, "White is dead, honey. You don't have to be afraid of him anymore."

Sam shook his head, "He's everywhere," he whispered.

She furrowed her brow, kissed the top of his head again as her mind raced. He was dead. She'd seen the autopsy report, in fact she had a copy of it in her desk at home that she reads when her skin starts to crawl after she's had a nightmare that he's returned. "There is only one place he can be and that's in a grave, honey."

He sniffled, "He's everywhere," he confessed again.

All she knew to do was rest her check against his head and hold him, rock him, somehow bring him comfort through her touch. And just as Elliot's lean body appeared at the door frame, quietly watching the scene unfold, Sam continued his confession, "he's in my dreams mom," he whispered, "And he's in the wind, his voice. He's everywhere and nowhere at the same time… I can hear his voice, I can smell him and I can remember how mean he was to dad."

"What does he tell you, when he's in the wind, honey?"

Sam sniffled, "That I'm a faggot. That I'm not a man at all, because I couldn't protect dad. That it's my fault Dad was hurt so bad."

"And what has your father and I told you, everyday, since that night?" she asked him softly and continued to gently stroke his back.

He tried to catch his breath, hiccupped and shook his head before simply leaning back into his mother's arms, "Sometimes," he whispered in an eerie calm that told her his confession would sting, "Sometimes, I wish… I was dead. I wish that you hadn't saved me when I hurt myself."

Her eyes bounced everywhere, searching for something to tell him searching for some way to ease his worry and his ache and when she couldn't come up with anything, when her tears spilled out of her eyes and into his hair she was thankful for Elliot who sat softly next to them, his hand tenderly touching his son's back, "And if your mother hadn't of saved you… who would have saved me? Who would have saved the monsters? Who would have saved Isaac?" he asked gently and leaned his forehead against Olivia's temple, "If your mother hadn't have saved you that day in the kitchen, who would she have with her right now? No one. Not me or you, not Isaac or the monsters, and that means that Abel wouldn't have anyone either because your mother wouldn't have been able to take loosing all of us… I'm very thankful your mother saved you that day, 'cause you got strong… and you saved this family, Sam," he assured him, rubbing his back gently and pursing his lips to kiss his wife gently.

"But," Sam swallowed and sat up, flanked by his parents, he wiped at his face, hissed at the burn in his eyes, "AHHH! When will it stop!" he demanded.

"Shh," Olivia whispered and lowered his hands before he could rub at his eyes anymore, "Mac said they gave you the solution at the station, it's the residue honey, stop touching your face."

"Talk to us, Samuel," Elliot encouraged, "what's happening? Why are you so angry?"

Sam's face contorted into pain and confusion and worry and self-doubt, "I-I didn't hurt Crystal. Not on purpose. N-not like those cops said. You said cops were good people, mom. That cop lied so much. He told uncle Mac that I attacked Crystal- Mom, I didn't even know where I was, I fell down the steps a bunch of time and the hotdog man called me a freak and the old lady-"

"Hey," Olivia smiled softly and rubbed his shoulder, "you're going a million miles a minute. We know you didn't attack her and your uncle Mac knows that too. Who do you think got you out of the mess at the station?"

Sam shook his head and ran his hands through his hair, forward and back, "My hair is long. It bothers me to put it in my swim cap. Will you cut it, mom?"

"Answer me, Sam-"

"Dad, will you cut my hair?" he asked as soon as his mother shut him down.

"No," Elliot shook his head softly, "no until you start talkin'… you broke a cop's nose, Sam an-"

"HE ATTACKED ME!" Sam protested and stood immediately to his feet, his slender frame suddenly towering over his parents, "He attacked me!" he yelled backing to the wall, his fist balling into the air, his muscles taut with frustration and anxiety. "He tried to pull me away from the window! He was gonna kill me! Just like he was gonna kill dad and he killed my dog! HE ATTACKED ME!" he screeched and suddenly turned, launching his fist through the sheetrock of his room, crying in pain the second he felt the snap of his bones in his wrist.

Boxer clad, shivering, afraid and now literally broken, Sam rested his body against the wall, his fist throbbing and stuck in the crumbled confines of the sheet rock, "He was gonna kill me," he sobbed, "He was gonna kill me and dad and Isaac and the monsters," he rambled.

Olivia moved to help him and Elliot stilled her, his eyes asking that she let him do this. She nodded softly and Elliot stood, "Sam," he said gently, "you were in a subway station. There were no windows, son… how could he pull you away?"

Sam thudded his head against the wall, "he was gonna kill us," he told him, "he was gonna kill you and me and Isaac and the monsters and then mom would have come home and he would still be there and he would have killed her-"

"Sam," Elliot stood directly behind him, " Sam, it was a cop, son. He wasn't gonna hurt you on purpose," he assured him and moved closer to his son, his body now towering Sam's as he rested his hand on Sam's shoulder, his other on Sam's wounded hand.

And that was all it took for Sam to come unglued.

"GET OFF OF ME!" he screeched, "Get off of me!" he yelled, tossing his head back and struggling to free himself from the wall, "Get away!"

"Elliot!" Olivia stood to try and help but just as she had, Elliot encircled their son's waist with one arm, pinning Sam's free arm to his side before crumbling the sheet rock and quickly getting Sam's hand free. His son's shriek of pain the second Elliot had freed his hand, forgotten as Sam fought him.

"ENOUGH!" Elliot yelled, pulling his son completely around and forcing him back on his bed, his body covering Sam's, "Enough!"

"Sam," Olivia held his shoulder down, "stop fighting, us. Now!"

"I HATE YOU!" he screeched, "He's gonna kill us!"

"He's dead!" Elliot said firmly into his son's ear, "He's dead! Stop this!"

"GET OFF OF ME!" He struggled again trying to push himself up and screeching at the pain in his hand, "MOM!"

"Sam," Olivia sobbed, "just stop fighting us, please, baby. Let us help you."

"Mom," Sam wept into his comforter, "he's gonna kill us."

"No, Samuel, no he's not. He's dead, honey."

"HE'S EVERYWHERE!" he hollered, the chords of his neck bulging, his face growing red with his labor.

"Call Mags!" Elliot demanded and the second Sam's shoulder was released he fought to get free again, his father's body weight pressed up against him.

Just like his grandfathers.

"You're hurting me!" Sam yelled and clawed behind him at his fathers face, taking flesh under his fingernails and trying desperately to free himself. He'd never realized, that even after his father's accident, he was still strong.

"I don't want to!" Elliot barked as Olivia left and returned to the room, phone between shoulder and jaw pleading desperately for Mags to help them.

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"Baby, you've got to stop fighting," Olivia whispered to him nearly thirty minutes after Elliot had freed him from the wall. "You're exhausted, and dad is exhausted, stop fighting."

"Mommer?" Solomon peeked into the room, "Mommer?"

"Honey," Olivia faked her best smile, "go turn the TV. on and I'll be in-"

"Mags," he told her in confusion.

Why was dad on brother like that? Why was mom cryin' so much? Why was brother yellin' so much and sister was out of her bed for a while, how come? Solomon's belly and chest heaved in confusion, as his eyes pooled and Olivia immediately went to him scooped him up into her embrace and took him away from the scene, "Brother is having a rough time."

"Daddy hurtin' him."

"No, honey. He's not I promise. Daddy is helping until Mags can."

"Mags," Solomon pointed to the door again.

"Yep," Olivia shook her head and quickly opened the door, "Oh, Mags. Thank you so much, for coming."

"Where is he?"

"His room. We've had to restrain him twice. The cops had to restrain him and-"

"He's fighting?" Mag's furrowed her brow, clearly shocked and then realized Olivia's split lip.

Olivia drew in her bottom lip and winced "Yeah… he's… it's like he's having a mental break."

Mag's exhaled, shook her head and made her way through the house as Olivia took Solomon to her room and sat him softly on the bed, "Honey, can you be a big boy and keep an eye on Abel? Make sure he's okay?"

"Sleepin'," Solomon told her, his face contorted with worry and fear, "I'na go wit Nana."

"Sister is sleeping, too, honey."

"Scared," he sniffled and peered up at her with large blue eyes, "I scared."

Olivia nodded and kneeled in front of him, her hand stroking his hair that curled gently at the ends, "A lot is happening, I know… want to get under Mommer's covers and I'll bring sister in and I'll turn the music on and you can make sure Abel is okay, and sister will protect you, can you do that for me? Until Mag's is gone?"

He sniffled again, wiped his nose with the back of his pudgy hand, "Moosie and Zeus."

She nodded, anything to keep him in this room, far, far away from Sam's room and the commotion within, "Okay, I'll bring in the doggies for you."

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"Sam, stop fighting," Mag's told him firmly. "Now."

Sam ignored her, continued, in his exhausted state to fight as his father's strength to keep him restrained was starting to fail, "Mags," Elliot nodded, "I can't keep holding him like this."

"Sam," Mags devised a bluff, "I have in my hand a needle with medicine in it… if I have to give it to you to calm you down that also means that you have to go to the hospital and not the one where they fix your wrist, but the one that you told me your Aunt Casey went to… do you remember we talked about that?" she reminded him. "Stop fighting or that is exactly where you're gonna force me to take you."

He stilled immediately.

No one had told him exactly what happened to his Aunt. He'd heard bits and pieces about a hospital that even his mom had a hard time getting into to see her and if his mom had a hard time getting in, that wasn't a good sign.

"Please Sam," Olivia whispered from behind them, "I want you home in your own bed honey where I know your safe, not in a hospital."

"Mom-"

"They'll tie you down Sam," Elliot told him, bringing the full ramifications into consideration for his son. "Do you want that? They will tie you down and lock you in a room where you can't hear or smell or touch your mother or Hannah. There is no Moses there and there is no swimming or voice lessons. Do you understand me? They aren't nice there, son," Elliot suddenly sobbed, the exertion of his body. The fact that he was restraining his son for the second time in an hour, the fact that he was threatening him with the possibility of being locked up in a mental institution, all proving to be too much for Elliot. "Please, Sam," Elliot pleaded, "I know you're scared. Please don't make me tell Mags to take you."

"Mags," Sam sniffled and turned his head to her voice, "Mags… will they let me die in there?"

His question left her visibly startled. She blinked rapidly as Olivia locked her fingers behind her neck and looked up at the ceiling pleading internally for God to intervene. "Sam," Olivia rushed and kneeled next to his bed, "Sam, what about Isaac? He looks up to you; he thinks you are the coolest person in the world… who is going to show him how to be a man if you go to a hospital? Who is going to show him how to tie and tie or tuck in his shirt? Who will show him those things if you're not around? And Hannah? What about her? She loves you Sam, you and her; you guys are connected in a way she'll never be to the rest of the boys… what will happen to her if you're gone? And Solo and Abel? I have so many boys, I need someone like you to help me, honey… please, stop fighting. Please, baby. I don't want you to go to the hospital. Me or you dad, we don't be able to visit you for long days, son."

He sniffled and sobbed into his comforted, "I didn't attack Crystal. He was gonna kill me. He never said he was a cop. He grabbed me."

Timidly, Olivia stroked his hair, "I know, and Uncle Mac said that he was very sorry he scared you, but baby…. Don't leave us because you're scared. Please don't do that."

"I didn't attack, Crystal!" he snapped and tried desperately to move again.

"Shhh," Mags soothed him, "Shhh,"

"We believe you, Sam. We do," Elliot assured him, "I promise you, we believe you. We even told your Uncle Mac that it was a mistake and he said he knew it was."

And with all the might he had leftover he screamed, "I HATE MY GRANDFATHER!"

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"Do you think Alex minded?" Olivia whispered as Sam leaned against her in the waiting room of the emergency room.

"I don't think so," Elliot responded softly and tenderly stroked his son's hair. It had taken nearly an hour more to get Sam where he would sit on his bed without any type of restraining or encouragement to remain there. It had taken nearly another hour for Alex to show up. Alex who, looked like crap, but seemed overly excited to be there. Almost as if she didn't have somewhere else to be. She'd brought Thomas, which was fine with them, but something wasn't sitting right with the Stablers about her, yet they had no time to ask or even consider what was happening.

Alex had smiled and encouraged them to go, that she would watch the kids and wait for Casey to arrive with Isaac. Which was another problem they would have to tackle when they got home.

"Mom," Sam whispered softly, "my hand really hurts. Will it be much longer?"

"Mags is talking to the nurse right now, son. But, you know," she smiled sadly and tenderly tickled his side, "this is what happens when you beat up the wall."

She felt him smirk against her arm and she was relieved because slowly her son was coming back to them. The aggressive boy, terrified and fighting, was not the boy she and Elliot had raised together, the teenager that had fought until he was literally too exhausted to do anything except breath, was not the little guy that Elliot had taken to ice cream on his shoulders, or that she'd taken her Saturday walks with.

But the boy next to her, in her arms with her husband just beyond, was the little boy she knew. The little boy that adored her, that understood humor and sarcasm was the little boy that wore ties to the dinner table and sneakers with slacks. He was Sam, and after this afternoon she was so glad to have him back.

"I'm sorry I scared you, son," Elliot whispered and gently placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam swallowed and took a deep breath, "I don't suppose I'll be getting a plea bargain out of this?"

Elliot chuckled and shook his head, the boy's humor at his impending doom bringing a smile to both of his parents. "Well," Elliot smirked, "I don't know, the sheetrock, probably cost ya… what do you think, Liv? Like a year right off the bat?"

"Well," Olivia smiled and wrapped her arm tighter around her boy, "then you factor in my lip and you're looking at life."

Sam sat up a bit straighter, the ice pack the nurse with the soft voice had given him, shifting on his lap. He turned to his mom, "Your lip?"

Olivia searched his face, saw the complete confusion there, "Its okay-"

"I hurt you?"

"You were scared, son."

"But," his brows furrowed, "I hurt you again?" and gently, to her surprise touched her chest where he'd accidentally cut into her flesh with a knife.

"It was an accident," she assured him in a firm voice, "nothing more. Nothing less."

"it's okay, Sam," Elliot assured him, "we'll sit down tomorrow morning when we've all rested and we'll figure this out. Don't think about it now, son."

He sniffled, sat back in his chair and leaned his head against the wall. In one day, he's hurt the two women he loves the most.

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"Mommie!" Hannah bolted down the hallway of their home, "Mommy!" she screeched and was promptly followed my two very large dogs that seemed just as afraid as the little brunette running frantically down the hall.

"Hey, you."

Hannah stopped and looked up, her head tilting to the side before grinning, "Auntie Al!"

"You know it!" Alex smiled and scooped her up, "what gives?"

"Solo bringded him's stinky snakie in da bed!"

Alex's brow arched, "He's got his snake in your bed?"

"In mommies bed. I sleepin' and him's brinded Horace in da bed!"

Moses scurried about the room followed by Zeus until both found their way to the back of the house and laid immediately a whimper from both as they looked toward Alex in timidity.

"For guard dogs you two sure are cowards."

"Yeah," Hannah agreed and stuck her tongue at both, "you bringded Tommy to see me?"

Alex smiled at her innocence and traced her cheek softly with her finger, "Sure did. He's sleepin on Isaac's bed."

"I wake him up?" she asked with a full smile.

Alex chuckled against the youngster, "don't you dare wake that boy up, young lady!"

"I get a kitty?"

Alex narrowed her eyes playfully, "You and that kitty what are we gonna do about it?"

"Put Horace in da potty like Kermit!" Hannah grinned and held tight to her aunts hand as she was lowered to the floor, "Where my mommie?"

"Oh," Alex squeezed her hand gently and walked with her back to the room, "she and your father had to take Sam to the doctor."

"My Sammy?" Hannah furrowed her brow and stopped walking, peering up at her aunt. "My Sammy sick?"

Alex smiled gently and kneeled, "No. Not sick. Just… needs to be patched up a bit… where's this snake you were talking about?"

Hannah pointed to her mother's room, "Better call Unckie Robbie to get it."

Alex took a deep breath, "Uncle Robert… well he's busy, honey. I'll get him," she assured her and turned the corner to see Solomon in his mother's NYPD t-shirt, his hands crossed behind his head, his ankles locked together a grin on his face.

"Hi!"

"Hey, you!" Alex chuckled, "You look guilty."

"Wha?" Solo smiled and wiggled his toes, "Horace not under the piwow."

Alex grinned "You know, I find it funny that your sister is the only one of you guys that can put up decent alibi and defense… put your snake back it its cage, Solomon."

"Ah, nuts!" Solomon groaned and rolled to his side, sitting up on his knees and looking back at his aunt, "I got Mommer's shirt."

Alex laughed, "And Mommer's gonna have your neck if she finds out there was a snake in her bed!"

Solomon groaned, "Wussy, Nanah!"

"Shut up! Stinky head!" Hannah said, slapping the mattress, "I tellin'!"

"Solo, get the snake," Alex told him as she smiled softly at the fussy from the crib and very gently picked up Abel, "Wow, Hannah, you got another cute brother."

Hannah eyed her, and simply stuck her tongue at the bundle in her arms, "Him's stinky, too."

Alex chuckled and then stilled when she saw Solomon's eyes practically bulge out of his sockets as he kneeled, the pillow in one hand, his mouth agape with shock, "Uh oh."

Alex held Abel securely and furrowed her brows, looking around the room, "Solomon, what do you mean uh oh, honey?"

Quickly he moved another pillow an pulled the comforter back, "Uh oh. Mommer gonna be mad."

"Why would Mommer be mad, Solomon?" Alex asked and moved her feet away from the bed.

Solomon looked back at his aunt then his sister and crawled angrily to her, "You takded my snake!"

"Did not!" Hannah yelped boldly taking a step closer to him whereas any other sister would have retreated. "I punch you!"

"Auntie Al!" Solomon whined and began to cry, "Hers takded my snake!"

"Oh sweetie," Alex groaned, "did you hide the snake under the pillow?"

He stuck out his lower lip and bowed his head, "Maybe."

She exhaled, helped him off of the bed, "We'll, I don't think Hannah took him. I think he slithered away."

"Away?" Solomon asked, "Him no likes me?"

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Alex smiled and ushered the kids out of the room. There was no way she wanted to stay in there with a snake on the loose. They left the room. Stopped and just for good measure she went back to the door closing it.

"But I want hims," Solomon began to cry.

"It okay, Solo," Hannah told him, "I let you lookit my movie."

Alex smiled sat on the couch and remembering there was now a snake in the house she instantly adjusted Abel in her arms and raised her legs up as her niece and nephew gathered around her and settled in for a cartoon, "That my broder!" Solomon smiled down at Abel who simply looked back at him, "Hims browk."

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"Casey!" Alex smiled softly and opened the front door of the Stabler's home, "how are-"

Casey stormed passed her with a sleeping Isaac in her arms, "Don't you 'how are you?' me! Why didn't you tell me?"

Alex closed her eyes, groaning inwardly before she closed the door. She exhaled and tried to smile, "Um. Thomas is here, he's playing with the kids in their room."

"Good," Casey nodded angrily, "that's means I can rip into your ass and he wont hear!" she hissed and walked Isaac into his room, gently laying him on his bed and assessing the huge whole in the wall, "Woaw," she was momentarily side tracked, "Elliot and Olivia, fighting?"

"No," Alex said softly and retreated to the kitchen, "apparently Sam takes after Elliot in a lot of ways. The pummeling of the walls is one of them."

Casey's brows shot up, "He okay?"

"They think he broke his wrist. They're at the hospital getting him checked out. His friend, Crystal called about thirty minutes ago to see how he was and-"

"You're trying to change the subject," Casey crossed her arms over her chest and then let them fall, and deep exhale as she leaned against the counter, "Alex," she shook her head, "What's happening? Robert came to the house frantically looking for you… he said you left with Thomas."

Alex licked her lips, drew in her lower one and bit it hard in an effort to not cry. She smiled, placed her glasses on the crown of her head, least they fog with her impending tears as she sniffled and turned away, "Be careful, there's a snake loose in the house."

Casey straightened and immediately looked down at her feet, cringing at the thought of a snake crawling over her sneakers. Satisfied she was in the clear, at least for now she looked back at her friend, "Is he hurting you, Alex? Did he hit you?"

Alex swallowed, sat defeated in a kitchen chair and rubbed her forehead, "No. No he wouldn't do something like that."

Casey walked around the kitchen counter and pulled up a chair across from her, satisfied with the laughter coming from the room that all was well with the children, "Alex… what happened?"

"It doesn't matter what happened, what matters is that my marriage is over. So, with that said," She gave a sharp nod of her head as if making this into some sort of math problem with a simple answer, "I start from here and I keep going… I don't need him."

"Need who?" Olivia's voice suddenly caught them both off guard and Alex immediately got up and retreated to the boys' restroom leaving Casey to answer questions that she had no answers for. "Case?" Olivia furrowed her brow as Elliot carried a sleeping Sam in his arms, his body limp as he was cradled by his father who labored to hold him and walk with him to his room.

"I just got here," Casey shrugged, shaking her head, "Isaac is sleeping in his room."

Olivia took a deep breath and leaned against the kitchen counter. Staring. Trying to keep from breaking. "Olivia?" Casey whispered softly and closed the space between them, taking her friend into a warm embrace, "It'll be okay," she assured her.

Olivia exhaled and cried softly, "Oh Casey," she groaned, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Casey told her and held her tighter, "Cry. Get it out. I owe you one anyway, right?" she chuckled and rubbed her friends back, "what happened here?"

"Sam flipped."

"Hmm," Casey chuckled softly and separated to look at her friend, "maybe there's a full moon out huh? 'Cause Isaac flipped too."

Ironically, Olivia laughed, "Comforting Casey."

"Well, apparently so did Alex, so… you know? We're a bunch of crazies all of us, right now."

"Is Isaac okay?"

"Yeah," Casey smiled softly and rubbed Olivia's arms vigorously, "he is. He got in a little scuffle, Alex said and he was put into a time out and, well… you know how he feels about time outs."

"Yeah," Olivia scoffed and shook her head.

"Hey," Casey grinned, "where's Abel? I want to see him."

Olivia turned around, assessed her house, the clutter and random things floating around, "Your guess is as good as mine."

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"Alex?" Elliot knocked softly on the boys' restroom, "Alex? You okay in there?"

She cleared her throat and sniffled, "Uh, yeah. Yeah I'm good. Thanks."

Elliot smiled softly, "You lie as well as Liv does. How can we help you?"

"Just," she sniffled and shook her head as she sat on the closed toilet, "leave me alone, please?"

Elliot exhaled and nodded to himself softly, "I have Isaac in my arms, he's sleeping, right now, but… I turned his bed down. Why don't you slip in when you want to come out and we'll take care of Thomas."

Alex sobbed into her hands, sobbed because if they knew the reason why she was in their restroom, surrounded by children's toothbrushes, Spiderman towels and bubble gum flavored mouth wash, they'd ask her to leave and they would support Robert with no questions asked.

"Alex," Elliot said softly, "Alex, open the door. We're all here, we'll talk with you and whatever it is… we'll help you. I promise."

"Leave me alone, Elliot."

He exhaled, "Okay, but take Isaac's bed, please?"

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"He's gorgeous," Casey grinned down at the sleeping baby, "Olivia, he's perfect."

Olivia leaned into her friend and peered down at her son, asleep in her arms, "He sleeps a lot. All the time. Eats like there is no tomorrow and loves Elliot like nothing I've ever seen."

Casey looked at her friend, "How do you feel about him?"

Olivia exhaled, shook her head, "It's… it's a lot to think about but… I-I like him. I'm prepared to say I like him. I can give him that. Right now."

Casey smiled, "I'm sure he's cool with that."

Olivia smiled softly and traced his chubby cheek with her finger, "I think he's cool with it. He and I, we have an understanding."

Casey smiled and then furrowed her brows, "Uh… Alex said something about a snake being loose in the house."

Olivia groaned, "Solomon! Come here, please!" she called down the hall and was surprised to have three kids sprinting down the hall.

"Mommer!" he grinned and promptly flopped into her lap as Hannah crawled up and Thomas looked on with his soft eyes and pure face.

"Hi Thomas," Olivia smiled at him, "come on up sweetie?"

Thomas looked around the living room, "My mommy?"

"Ah, she's using the potty," Casey chuckled and helped him up on the couch, "come on. Spend some time with your favorite aunts.

"Young man," Olivia wrapped her arms around Solo's waist, "did you take Horace out of his cage while we were gone."

"Busted!" Hannah grinned and slid off of the couch scampering away but not before throwing over her shoulder, "in yous bed mommy!"

Olivia's eyes bulged, "Solomon."

He looked at his sister as she walked away to check on her Sammy, "Mommer," Solo whined and patted her belly, "you and daddy only makded boy babies. No more girl babies."

Olivia grinned and rested her forehead against his, "Did you have your snake in my bed?"

"Under yous piwow."

Olivia cringed, "Oh, Solo… of all the places. My bed?"

"I sowry, Mommer."

She exhaled, "Honey, how will we find him? The house is much larger than the car."

"I feed him Nanah and he come back?" he asked with perfect three year old logic.

Olivia exhaled, "No, honey. I don't think we can find him, now."

He jetted out his lower lip and leaned into his mother's chest, "I sowry, Mommer."

She wrapped her hands around his small body, much too tired to render a proper scolding, "We'll worry about it tomorrow honey."

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"Alex," Olivia knocked on the restroom door softly, "honey. Casey left… you've been in there for hours, I mean… did you crap and fall back in it?"

"Please leave me alone," Alex whispered softly.

"Okay," Olivia agreed, "there is an extra tooth brush in the medicine cabinet if you don't mind Barbie and, you can have a shower, I'll put some clothes on Isaac's bed for you to sleep in and we'll put Thomas on the fold-out."

Alex sniffled softly and exhaled, "I don't care."

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Olivia leaned against the frame of her room and watched Elliot tickle and play with Isaac, who laughed happily as if his day wasn't as crappy as his parents had been. "Mom!" Isaac grinned and sat on his father's lap.

"Hey, trouble," she smiled and crawled on the mattress, her eyes playfully narrowed at her son, "heard you had a scuffle?" she told him, edging closer to him, opting for playfulness because her day had been entirely to full of the serious stuff.

He squirmed on his dads laughed and giggled as she crawled closer to him, low playful growls coming from low in her chest and she suddenly reached out and snagged him, pulling him under her and tickling him relentlessly, effectively surprising Elliot who thought they were in for another sit down with another son.

"Mom!" he squealed and called for his sister.

"She can't help you!" Olivia grinned down at him, "she's with Sam! Which means, I can feed you to the snake that's loose in this room!"

His eyes popped out of his eyes and he wiggled for his freedom, "No! Mom!"

She pulled him back under her body and tickled him, raising his shirt and blowing hard against his skin. She felt his hands cover her ears and she loved the touch he brought her. She didn't care if this playful encounter might send him the message that he could fight at school. She just wanted to be close to something. Anything.

He tried to tickle her back and it only serve to spur Elliot on, who stood and pulled Olivia off of him, pinning her to the mattress, "Get her, son!"

"I got you, now!" Isaac laughed and kneeled next to his mother tickling her playfully and when she moved to her side to protect herself and her shirt fell away exposing the curve of her breast. Isaac stilled and stared down at the print. He knew it was his hand. She's told him that several times, but why was his hands the only hands he could even see on her? What about his other brothers and his sister?

He reached out and rest his small hand over her chest, "This is mine?"

She smiled, covered his hand with hers as Elliot positioned himself behind her, "Yeah," she answered and assessed his small face, his glasses that made him that much cuter. "Heard you had a rough day, honey."

Opposite his brother, Isaac talked freely with his parents, "Jordan tried to take my book that I wanted to read to Sam."

Elliot propped his head up on his hand and stroked Olivia's arm as she and Isaac talked about the mishap, "And what happened when he tried to take it?"

Isaac's eyes went immediately to the right, "Um, we'll see… I told him lots of times to leave me alone. That it was my book 'cause I found it first."

"Uh huh," Elliot smiled, "and did he listen?"

"No," Isaac said softy, "and he pushed me, see? And so… I pushed him back and I was gonna whack him on his noodle with the book and Aunt Alex got me and I had to go to time out."

"And what happened in time out?" Olivia whispered and let him snuggle close to her, Elliot's arm draping over her as his hand stroked his son's back, "It got super small like the bath and super hot like the summertime and I couldn't really breathe real good. My classroom got all funny and I got scared. That's when Aunt Alex woke me up. I was in lots of trouble but you know what?"

"Tell us," Olivia whispered, "go ahead."

"Uncle Robert came to the room. He never comes unless it's to pick her up and bring me treats. He came and oh boy, he was super mad!"

"Mad?" Elliot questioned, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Isaac nodded, "and Aunt Alex, she started to cry as soon as he started to talk to her and the principal came in and Aunt Alex took me to Aunt Casey's and she cried the whole way there on the subway."

"Did Uncle Robert hurt her?" Elliot asked gently.

"No," Isaac shook his head, "But, he was super mad. Like when Sammy gets mad and he starts to cry cause he can't tell you how mad he is, that was how Uncle Robert was today. Crying and super mad and the fake cop came and made him leave."

"The security?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah," Isaac nodded, "he came and made Uncle Robert leave and then made Aunt Alex wait a long time before she could leave and they had to check my yellow card to make sure she could take me home."

"Did you hear what Uncle Robert told Aunt Alex?" Elliot asked.

"No, he kept asking her 'how she could', but I don't understand that. Maybe he asked her how she could like the spaghetti at school. It's super gross."

Olivia nodded, "Maybe."

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in trouble for fighting at school?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

He groaned, "Can I still sleep with you?"

"Yeah," she said softly, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

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"You didn't really think you'd slip in unnoticed did you?" Olivia asked softly from the dark corner of Sam's room.

Alex jumped trying to cover her naked chest. She'd made every effort to tiptoes quietly into Sam's room, change and slip into Isaac's bed to try and get some semblance of sleep, "I-I didn't know you were in here. "

"Well," Olivia stood from Sam's chair and handed Alex a shirt in the darkened room, "I wouldn't be sneaky if I sat here with the light on, now would I?"

Alex exhaled, put the shirt on and flopped onto the foot of the bed, "So… how's Sam?"

"Loaded up on all types of drugs to take the pain away. He and Crystal have matching injuries now." Olivia told her softly, "But, as much as Sam concerns me, so does my friend spending hours in the restroom with out giving me a reason."

"Constipation."

"Liar," Olivia smirked and fluffed Isaac's pillow for her friend "hope you don't mind Sponge Bob sheets."

"I probably won't sleep much anyway," Alex exhaled and slipped into the cool of the linen.

"So," Olivia sat softly on the edge of the bed, "Seems everyone has just got the carpet pulled out from under them today, huh?"

Alex sniffled, "Seems that way… what time is it?"

"One O'clock in the morning… Robert called, by the way."

Alex let out a sob and turned her back to her friend, "Please leave me alone."

Olivia simply stretched out next to her and held her as if she were her sister. Held her the same way Alex had held her when her own marriage was on shaky ground. "What happened, Alex?" she said softly, "Elliot and I will help you guys, I promise. But you've got to let us know what happened so we can help you."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," Olivia nodded, "but I do need you to answer me one thing, and I won't let you sleep until you do."

She exhaled, "what?"

"Did he hit you? Did he hurt you or Thomas?"

Alex shook her head, "No. No, you couldn't be farther from the truth."

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"It's freezing out here, Elliot." Olivia shivered and turned to go back inside.

"Hey! What about our date?" He smiled softly.

"Elliot," she groaned, "its one-thirty in the morning and it's almost October and I'm in a sweater and-"

"Amazing panties," he waggled his brow and pulled her close to him. "Come on, Liv. I got a blanket and some chocolate right over there by the chair."

She eyed him, kissed his lips tenderly, "There cherry in that chocolate?"

He grinned, "With a day like today there is chocolate in your cherry."

She smiled and exhaled, "Hurry up I'm freezing. Why were you out here anyway?"

He helped her onto the patio furniture, brought the blanket over their body and pulled her close, warming her instantly, "Because I knew you'd have to come out here looking for me. I knew I couldn't convince you to come out here once you crawled into bed."

"Uggh, Horace is loose in our room."

"Mmm," he grinned and kissed her neck, pulling her hips back against him as they lay together, "there might by Horace senior loose right now."

She chuckled, "How are you not exhausted from all of the crap we just dealt with?"

"I am exhausted. I just happen to be horny, too."

"Yeah?"

He rubbed into her, "Yeah."

"So… you offerin'? Again?" she whispered.

He nuzzled her ear playfully and pulled her thigh over his leg, "I'm always offering, Liv. How is Alex?" he whispered and trailed his fingers so lightly over her abdomen she shuddered.

"Not budging. Not a crack. It's that stubborn lawyer thing she's got going," Olivia whispered. "Elliot it's freezing out here."

He ran his hand further up her abdomen and stroked her free breast, "I can warm you."

She covered his hand with hers through the sweater, "I really liked today, Elliot. Before our boys decided to commit total anarchy," she told him and reached behind her, dipping her hand into his sweats and giving him more motivation.

"So," he grinned and slipped his hand between her legs moving the fabric to the side and stroking her moist center, "the cuffs are a keeper?"

She hissed the second she felt his finger glide over her, "Yeah, keeper."

"That's pretty hot, Liv."

"Which is the opposite of the temperature out here on this back deck."

"Well," he grinned, "I'm pretty warm."

She arched her brow, "Oh yeah?"

"Yep," he said smugly.

She withdrew his hand, pulled her leg back to her and rolled over to him. She reached down and pulled his sweats down in one hard jerk, "How's that?"

He gasped for breath, "C-cold. Pretty cold."

She laughed, "That's what I thought," she told him and swatted him playfully as she turned back to leave, "Let's go inside."

He pulled her back, and although she was tired and worn out from the events of the day and curious as to why Alex was suddenly sleeping over night in their home, she wasn't so tired that she would deny herself this. Never this. Never him. He brought her back to him, brought the blanket back over their cold bodies and bit softly at her neck, "Sure didn't put up much of a fuss, there, Liv."

"I'm not doing anything… just so you know."

He chuckled, "I'm too tired to do much of anything either, but I think we'll figure something out."

"So," she grinned in the privacy of the dark night, "what you're telling me, is that we're gonna have lazy Sunday morning sex, in the middle of the night, on a Thursday?"

He slipped his hand back into the front of her panties and felt her leg willingly drape over his, felt her hand caress the globe of his butt, "Don't forget outside. Lazy Sunday morning sex, in the middle of the night, on a Thursday… outside," he grinned and stoked her gently, dipping his middle finger lower with each pass until he felt the warmth of her body around his finger.

She bit her bottom lip, held in a moan and released a breath, "Elliot. I don't know If I can stay awake for slow and lazy. I'm exhausted."

He smiled, withdrew his hand, moved the thin fabric that covered her perfect derriere to the side, "Just a little longer, Liv," he chuckled and was surprised when she helped guide him into her body, moaning with him, half in exhaustion and half in appreciation, "thought you weren't doing anything?" he teased and moved so slowly she felt every tantalizing movement of his penis inside of her.

"You were taking the slow and lazy part too far."

"Mmmm, maybe," he confessed and moved just a little slower, just slightly, the fabric of her underwear sliding against his length with each slow stride. "Liv?"

"Hmm?" she whispered and pulled his hand back to dip into her panties.

"Today," he ran his finger lazily over her folds avoiding her center, wanting this to go on forever, because no matter how bad it got in the house, no matter what chaos unfolded, they've always been able to connect and he wouldn't give up the feeling of safety and security and peace he has every time he makes love to his wife for anything else in the world.

"Today, what?" she encouraged him and moved her hips just slightly in an effort to get him to touch her where she most wanted it.

He smiled, avoided her center and continued thrusting as slowly and delicately as he could. The sound of him entering and withdrawing making him harder as he moved, "Today in the laundry room. That was amazing, Olivia. You looked awesome and you felt so incredible… were you okay?"

Perhaps it's the fact that she gave birth to Solomon naturally, perhaps it's their position on the patio furniture, perhaps it's just the fact that she is virtually falling asleep in his arms, she not entirely sure, but what she does know is that she doesn't quite trust that she felt incredible because she's not so sure she feels like she used to before giving birth and even though it's been years, she's loosing trust in her body. She has discovered that while the love making between them is still great and she wants him just as bad as she has the first time they made love, she has discovered that occasionally she struggles to climax if he is not touching her, if she is not touching herself and as a woman, she's starting to wonder what her problem is. But, maybe it was being stretched out, cuffed to a cabinet, her body in an entirely different position, because when she came and broke in his arms, every muscle in her body ached and throbbed and she wanted him to start all over and do it again.

"More than okay," she assured him and pushed her bottom back against him, taking him deeper into her body. She hissed and dipped her hand into the front of her panties, covering his slow working fingers and for the first time, guiding and directing his touch, too impatient to wait for him, too impatient for his teasing.

"Sure looks like work to me," he chuckled in her ear and moved inside of her again, he felt her tense, felt her head arch against him, her hand dig into his as she stroked herself with him and wrapped her foot around his calf.

"El-" she whimpered and groaned. Slow and lazy had flown right out the window at the sound in her voice.

He withdrew his hand, "Touch yourself, baby," he whispered in her ear and held her hip, allowing himself to thrust faster and deeper into her body. He watched as her face twisted with the makings of an orgasm and he grinned knowing it was both of them making her break. He watched her hand work frantically and he pushed deeper, growling against her, "I can't wait, Liv."

She whimpered, her eyes tight, breathing labored and when she thought she would simply grow tired from being coiled without release her body finally broke and she screamed into the cool night, her echo making him jump inside of her as he practically clawed at her and groaned loudly into her neck as his hips jerked against her backside. He kept moving, riding this out and with the much softer movements of his hips, he withdrew her hand, sucked softly on her fingers as he replaced her hand with his and stroked her.

She almost ripped his jaw off with her fingers.

He followed her hand, continued to suck as she groaned at his touch, she felt her thighs close in around his hand and he took another finger into his mouth as she moaned softly and came once more, his hand held mercilessly between her thighs until she had nothing left to offer and her body went limp next to him.

She panted heavily and tried to catch her bearings, "Sunday morning sex on Thursday… good thinking," she chuckled.

He laughed softly and bit her ear lobe playfully, "Little delayed reaction there, Liv?"

She blushed and elbowed him softly, "Shut up. Your fault, keeping our clothes on. Too hard to do anything with underwear still on."

He pulled her now warm body close to him, kissed her sweaty cheek, "Liv?"

"Hmmm? Make it fast. I'm sleepy."

"You okay? That's never really happened to you."

Without missing a beat she covered her own worry, "It's late and we haven't been blessed with the best news tonight and I… have a lot on my plate with Abel. I'm just tired. I'm sor-"

"Don't say sorry," he kissed her again, "I was just… wanting to let you know that I do pay attention."

She laughed, "Well, it might have something to do with the laundry room. I'm older now Elliot. I'm not sure I can keep up anymore."

He laughed, "Yeah, you can. Trust me."


	16. Undesirable

Silver Lining

Chapter 16

Undesirable

Ugggghhh! Sorry, guys. This is been sitting on my laptop for a month. And I've been trying to finish the chapter up… I had to cut it short only 40 pages. But, the rest will keep coming as soon as the writer's block stops blocking me! Lol.

The house seemed off balance. Not empty, or restless or even un-nerving, it simply felt… off. So much so that Olivia found herself starring up at the ceiling of their bedroom for what was going on the second hour. She tried desperately to catalogue what was going on within their home, the steady hum of her husband's breathing as he lay next to her, his hand splayed over her abdomen, the rise and fall of each of his knuckles as she grazed them with her fingertip.

Her own breathing that matched the rhythm his lungs produced was followed by the softer breaths of their five-year-old son who lay curled as close to his father as he could manage, his legs sprawled as far as his small hips would allow, one foot on his mother's shoulder, the other between Elliot's side and his arm. And finally, within the confines of the room was a much quicker, much softer breathing pattern of a young baby who lay sleeping in his crib, a small teddy bear on loan from Hannah.

Not Mr. Uno.

Olivia took a deep breath, let it out slowly and moved her hand from Elliot's to Isaac's small foot and gently brought it to her lips, kissing his skin softly and gently rubbing the front of his shin as he slept. She turned her head to the open door, the pale light of the moon providing enough illumination to see into the hallway, where just beyond it laid two sleeping toddlers, recharging their batteries to wreak havoc on their mother's sanity and their father's aching body just as early as the sun will rise.

Hannah, whom she adores and loves and monitors like there is no tomorrow. Hannah whom, she prays for nightly in the hopes she will grow up strong and nothing like her mother.

Solomon, who she adores just as much and is just as ashamed to admit that she wants to check in on them for the third time since she and Elliot have come in from the deck. To make sure of what, exactly? That Solomon has not snuggled up to his sister that he loves in spite of the brutality she can put him through?

Olivia pushed herself up slowly, resting against the head rest of the bed as Elliot stirred, his arm wrapping around their son, his nose burying itself in Isaac's soft hair. She folded her arms over her waist and puffed out air as she continued to listen to the house settle.

Continued to wonder and worry about her children.

Her friend.

Alex had slipped into Isaac's bed, curled up and shut down on Olivia. Which reminded Olivia that young Thomas lay asleep on their fold out sofa-bed surrounded by pillows and cushions.

And then, there was Sam.

Oh boy was there Sam. Her thirteen-year-old hero that lay asleep in his bed, his wrist carefully placed on a soft pillow as a protective brace kept his limb secure. A bad sprain the doctor had said and Olivia had heard the deep exhalation of relief come from Sam.

He'd be able to swim soon.

After his parents sentenced him, anyway.

Olivia took another breath and watched and groaned as the alarm clock advanced one more minute into the still very young and very long night. When she finally became too restless to continue lying in bed she tossed back the comforter and left the security of their bed and padded softly into The Monsters' room.

No need to flip a light on, she's made this check almost every night since Solomon and Hannah learned to crawl out of their cribs. And what she saw tonight, the same thing she sees often, worries her to the very core of her being. Hannah has crawled in bed with her brother, snuggled tightly next to him with Mr. Uno resting between them, Solomon's arm draped over his sister as they both slept under his pale blue comforter.

Her guts hurt seeing them curled up in bed and she hated herself for feeling that way. She hates herself that she is so completely paranoid and consumed with need to keep them separate.

Olivia sat softly on the edge of the bed after lowering the protective rail that they simply crawl around to get in and out of the bed. She sat and she stared down at her children and smiled softly as she ran her hand, lightly over Hannah's thick hair. The guilt consumed Olivia at times, most multiple births are referred to as 'the twins' or 'triplets' or whatever the case may be, but Olivia has never referred to her children as such because, it strikes only one chord within her.

Fear.

Olivia and Oliver were twins. Didn't work out so well for either of them.

And what of her babies? She has made every conscience decision she can possibly think of to protect them both. Baths together are not allowed. Dressing in front of one another is not allowed and finally, sleeping with one another without mom or dad near, is not allowed.

Olivia exhaled, she knew in her heart of hearts that no harm would ever come between Hannah and Solomon. After all, Solomon was not Oliver and Hannah was not Olivia.

But, she still wasn't gonna risk it.

"Come on Hannah girl," Olivia whispered and gently picked up her sleeping daughter and laid her softly in her bed, "Frankie is gonna re-do the house with daddy," she whispered over her daughter, "and you'll have your own room. You'll always be safe," she told her and kissed her tenderly on her chubby cheek before returning to Solomon who's sleeping smirk had faded the second his sister left his side. Olivia tucked him in tighter and kissed his forehead, "You're amazing, little guy," she told him and slipped silently out of their bedroom opting for a book and coffee.

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The sound of bare feet against the linoleum in the kitchen had caused Olivia to peer over her book and smile softly at her oldest son, "You look terrible, honey," she teased as she watched him, his face twisted up in discomfort, his arm held protectively to his body by his other.

"It hurts so bad," he confessed.

Olivia exhaled softly and placed her book on the smaller of the two couches. Satisfied young Thomas was out cold she spoke softly to Sam, "Your meds wore off… want me to get you some more?"

He stood there, frozen with worry clearly written across his face.

"Samuel?"

"I was so… sleepy. I'm sorry," he whispered softly and bowed his head.

"Raise your head," Olivia corrected gently and stood, closing the gap between them. Surprised when he quickly took a few steps back, "Son?" she narrowed her eyes in concern, "Sam-"

"I'm sorry, mom."

She furrowed her brows, "Honey… I don't understand. What are you sorry for? The medicine only lasts a few h-"

"It made me so sleepy that I couldn't get out of bed… in time to…" he let his voice fall and there, in the kitchen illuminated by the soft bulb of the living room lamp, Olivia saw the wet spot on his boxers.

"Sometimes, medicine can do that… make it so your body won't wake up in time. Its okay, honey. You need a shower and I'll change your bed, give you some medicine to help your wrist and you can go back to sl-"

"I hate White," he confessed, his lips tight as he slowly shook his head.

She braced herself for another meltdown.

"Hon-"

"I hate him so much," Sam sniffled and suddenly sobbed, his shoulders bouncing up and down, "But not as much… as I hate my father," he wept and continued to hold his wrist against his belly. "I hate them so much, mom," he cried, his tears flowing faster as he stood still.

She remembered when Elliot touched Sam. He'd flipped.

"Can I hold you, honey? Would that be okay?"

He surprised her and reached out for her. She wrapped her arms around him, careful of his wrist and held him against her. He still had not showered since his cuffing incident but she could still smell his cologne that he said Crystal liked. She held him tight, "I love you."

His hand snaked around her, held tight to her shirt as his sprained wrist rest safely between them, "I makes me feel bad… that you love me, when I hate other people."

"Samuel," she pulled back and gently kissed his forehead, pepper-spray still on his young skin, "It's okay that you're feeling angry towards them, it is. They hurt you very badly son… its okay to be angry about it.

He swallowed, "I thought…. I thought… I thought…" he shook his head and sniffled, "I don't know."

"Yes you do," she told him gently, "it's okay to tell me. I'm safe. I'll always be safe for you. Always. I promise."

He hid closer into the safety of his mother and sobbed, "I thought it would be okay by now," he sobbed and suddenly pushed away from her, "Leave me alone!"

She separated, but only an arms length. She gave him space, gave him permission to break in front of her, gave him the freedom to fall apart all over again, "Honey-"

"I pissed all over my self!" he shouted through tears and suddenly heard the scuff of his mother's bare feet on the linoleum of the floor. The air moved and her arms suddenly wrapped tightly around him.

"Shhh," Olivia soothed him, "you'll wake Thomas."

He shook his head in frustration, "It hurts!"

She squeezed him tighter, "I know it does, baby. I know it does."

"Why isn't it better, mom?" Sam sobbed, "You said it would get better. That one day I wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"And you won't be," she assured him, "one day, you won't be."

He continued to cry, continued to shake his head and struggle for breath, "I was lost today, mom and I thought… I thought he could be anywhere, ready to take me away from you and dad. I was lost and I didn't know if I would get to hear Isaac or the monsters and I was scared and that sonovabitch cop lied!"

"Sam," she said firmly, "go to the shower. Wash up."

"He lied!" he snapped again.

"Sam!" she raised her voice, hoping it would shock him back into reality. He stilled and listened for her, "your options are to get in the shower and we'll talk as soon as you get out or I'll put you in the shower. Make a choice and make it now."

He sniffled and liked his lips, instantly frowning, "Tastes like that stuff they put on my face and it burns all the time, mom."

"I know," she said softly and gently pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. "Go."

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Olivia had barely pulled the soiled fitted shirt off Sam's bed as Alex slept on Isaac's bed, when she heard him shouting from the shower. Shouts of pain and sudden fear. She bolted immediately, "Sam!" she called and threw her body weight against the door as she fumbled with the knob. "Sam!" she said again as he continued shouting.

His scream turned into a shriek as soon as the door gave way. She moved quickly to the shower and pulled back the shower curtain in a flurry, not knowing what she should expect and then she'd remembered that she'd forgotten to tell him to take a cold shower.

That warm water would reactivate the residue of the pepper spray.

"Sam! Calm down!" she instructed and quickly turned the water to cold.

He continued to holler in pain, backing away from the stream, his good hand raised defensively as if the water were acid, "Mom! Get out! I'm naked! Get out!"

Olivia grabbed him by the nape of his neck and forced him to move, forced him under the stream as he struggled with her, his good arm digging into her forearm, "Mom!" he sputtered through the water and suddenly felt the cool of his mother's wedding ring down his cheek, felt the softness of her hand wipe repeatedly over his face, the water temperature suddenly changing to freezing.

He gasped in shock of the freezing cold but it was so much better than the searing pain of the spray, "It hurts!" he moaned and felt his mothers hand take another pass over his face.

"Open your eyes," she told him.

"It hu-"

"OPEN YOUR EYES!" she demanded, "Use your fingers! Now or it's just gonna keep burning!"

He sputtered under the water, tried to shield his groin and his face and his body, "Mom! I'm naked, get out!"

"SAMUEL!" she snapped and rested her palm on the crown of her head, her fingers draping over his brows and reaching to his eye-lids, prying the open. "Get under the water!" she told him and forced him to move closer.

It was soothing and painful all at once.

It shocked him. "AHH!" Sam screamed grabbing for his mother, his feet slipping on the smooth bottom of the bathtub.

Before she realized the implications of her actions Olivia lunged to break her son's fall, her hand and grip slipping from his wet body as he fell to his bottom. She hadn't been so lucky, falling over her son's body, the shower curtain ripping from the rings as she tried desperately to keep her balance.

But failed.

Her brow crashing against the curve of the tub.

She'd moaned and then there was nothing.

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"Olivia!" Alex shouted into the bathroom, she'd gotten there, just in time to see her friend's head bounce off the side of the tub. Her nephew frantically moving in the tub. His naked body hidden only by the silent body of his mother.

"Mom!" Sam yelled, shaking her with his good hand, "Mom! I can't hear you!"

"Olivia!" Alex hollered again and kneeled immediately, pulling at Olivia's body and turning her face to meet hers just as soon as she'd gotten her limp body out of the tub. She couldn't tell exactly where the blood was coming from but it looked painful. "ELLIOT!" Alex shouted over her shoulder as Sam curled himself in the tub, rocking with his arms hugging his legs.

"Olivia wake up!" Alex told her frantically, "Wake up now, damnit!" she pleaded and shook her jaw.

"Liv!" Elliot's voice had come crashing into the room with the dominance of his body the moment he saw his wife lying pale and limp in Alex's arms. "What happened?" he demanded as he kneeled and instantly put her head in his lap, "Liv!"

"She fell, I saw it. She fell," Alex explained, "I heard shouting and Olivia was shouting and then I-"

"Sam, what happened to your mother?" Elliot demanded as he felt quickly for a pulse and was relieved the moment he felt the throbbing artery in her neck.

Sam remained quiet. Continued to rock.

"Sam!" Elliot demanded.

"El?"

He'd felt the vibration in his fingertips as her groan formed his name. He exhaled, "Liv… Liv are you okay?"

"What… what happ-…uggh, my head."

"You got a cut, Olivia," Alex told her softly and gently held a damp cloth to her brow, "You fell and hit your head."

"My son? His eyes," she moaned and tried to sit up, "Sam's eyes," she said hoarsely and held her swollen face, groaning as the bathroom began to spin, "I'm gonna be sick."

"Okay, okay," Elliot said softly, "up. Let's go," he told her, a grunt expelling from his lips as he lifted her to her knees and held her up to the toilet. She heaved the second her face was over the bowl.

In the background she heard her son cry and wanted so badly to be with him to help him through whatever was happening but as her guts threatened to explode right along her throat she couldn't do anything.

"Let me," Alex said softly and kneeled next to her friend, as she jutted her head to Sam who sat naked, crying and rocking, the shower stream still hitting him.

"Liv, is it okay if I get S-"

"Yeah, it's fine. Please, make sure he's okay," she panted, her head lying on her forearm that rested on the lid of toilet. She knows it's unsanitary to do so, but the searing pain in her head and the feeling of perpetual vomit made her stay put. "He needs more meds"

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"Wake up!" Alex said sharply and Olivia jolted, her brows furrowing.

"Stop yelling," Olivia groaned, "in case you don't see it… my head is the size of a pumpkin and it's pounding… yelling doesn't help."

"And," Alex smiled softly and set on the edge of Olivia's bed, "since you refuse to go to the hospital, we're keeping you up… you know you can't sleep after something like that."

Olivia smirked slowly, "Scared I'll die on you, Alex?"

Alex took a breath and exhaled, "Right now," she said softly, "I can't loose any one else… you and Thomas… you're all I got."

Olivia attempted to furrow her brow again and moaned at the tightness just over her brow, she raised her hand to her face, "Is it bad?"

"Swollen," Alex said, reassessing the wound, "turning nice crazy colors already. Probably won't leave a scar though. Looks like a little cut, but you know head wounds, they bleed until you die."

Olivia gently touched Alex's thigh, "Just like heart wounds do."

Alex licked her lips and turned away, "I'm not talking about it, Olivia. So stop asking."

Olivia shrugged, the sting of her friends words rolling off of her shoulder, "Wasn't asking. Just Observing."

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"I hurt her again?" Sam shook his head, his shoulders slumped as he cried. Finally able to do so without the searing pain of pepper spray, although his face was still an angry red and Elliot could feel the heat radiate from his son.

"It was an accident," Elliot assured him, "Just an accident."

"I hurt her a lot."

"What can I say?" Elliot shrugged his shoulders and gently bumped his son who sat next to him on his small bed, "You two are just accidents waiting to happen."

Sam bowed his head, his voice was full of rejection and shame, "That's not funny, Dad."

Elliot chuckled, "Bull! Let me tell you my boy, you're mother was the best cop I've ever seen. Played her cards right for the most part but you may just be the end of her!" he laughed, his only aim to lighten the load on Sam's shoulders.

Yeah… that didn't work out so well.

"It's not funny! Do you hear me? It's not!" Sam snapped and suddenly cried, "I hate my dad. I hate him so much that I wish he would just die. You know that, dad? I wish he would just get his brains blown out or… or… or…. Or… JUST DIE!" He yelled.

Elliot wrapped his strong arm around him and pulled him close to his body, "I don't want to die, son," he whispered softly. "I don't. I want to see you grow up and I want to be with your mother. There is so much about her that is still a mystery to me… I want to learn about her… I don't want to die."

Sam shook his head against his father's chest but didn't pull away, "I wasn't-"

"Talking about me?" Elliot said softly, "Yes you were, because _I am_ you're father. Me. You have my name because I gave it to you. You _are_ a Stabler. You're my son who I take to voice lessons and secretly let steer the wheel of my truck." "You're my son who hates mayonnaise on his sandwiches and listens to Spanish television and who saved my life. You are my son, Samuel. Mine. And I_ am_ you're father."

Sam sniffled and pulled back. He was miserable. He shook his head, "I wish," he sniffled, "I wish I could see you."

Elliot's brows rose in pleasant surprise, "You don't believe it when your mom says I'm good looking?"

Sam's lips barely supported a smirk, "I want to see you," Sam whispered, "so I know what I'm supposed to look like… you know? A real man."

"You fake?" Elliot teased.

Sam slowly, almost imperceptibly nodded his head, "Yes," he breathed.

Elliot raised a brow and slowly placed his finger on his son's shoulder, then applied pressure, "Feel pretty real to me."

"Dad!" Sam snapped, "You're making this harder!"

Elliot smiled and rested his chin in his hand, "You're right. I'm sorry. Tell me what you mean."

"I want to be a man," Sam told him. "I want to be a man, but I can't see you to know what a real man is supposed to look like and it's not fair that I can't see you and I'll always be stupid and a queer and-"

"Who. Called. You. That?" Elliot demanded firmly, "I want a name. Now."

Sam licked his lips, "I tried out for the stupid talent show, thing."

"And?" Elliot prodded.

"Just… some of the other boys… laughed that I was gonna sing."

Elliot exhaled, scratched his receding hairline, "You never mentioned anything about a talent show."

"Yeah, well. Not doing it now, anyway."

"I've heard your voice, son. It's pretty amazing."

"Maybe I am a queer Dad, maybe it's true just like they say. Maybe my dad and grandpa were right. Maybe my dreams are right. Maybe I'm a faggot just like they say."

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"So, let me get this straight," Olivia blinked rapidly, "Your house is being fumigated… and Robert wanted to stay at his parents and you didn't… so you're here?"

"Yep," Alex tried a smile.

Didn't really work out so well for her.

"Wow," Olivia smirked, "Solomon comes up with better lies than that… I think Abel could do better than that."

Alex bit her bottom lip and stared at a picture of Olivia and Elliot asleep in bed, small smiles on both of their faces, her hand resting gently on his chest, his lips as close to her face as possible, the bad composition of the picture had Isaac written all over it. His sudden obsession with taking pictures started at four and lasted as many days. Still, in all it's awkwardness, the way it sat skewed in the frame, it was beautiful.

"Okay," Olivia shook her head, "I give. My head hurts, my life is in utter chaos at the moment and I'm pretty sure that between my split lip and swollen eye… people are gonna think Elliot beats me."

Alex nodded softly, "Thank you."

Olivia arched her brow, "For what?"

"Not pushing it."

"Ha!" Olivia grinned, "It's not me you have to worry about… Casey knows something's up. She's gonna bite into you and not let go until you cave… and you will cave," she chuckled and groaned immediately. "My head is killing me… where is Sam?" she asked and suddenly panicked, "Alex," she sat up immediately, "where's my son? Is he okay?"

"Relax," Alex smiled softly and helped her lean back, "he's talking with Elliot. Isaac is in Solomon's bed and your little girl is in hers… just relax."

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"I'm done talking, now," Sam said. Calm, cool and suddenly very collected.

"Samuel," Elliot cajoled him softly.

Sam stood up from the bed and dragged his hand through his hair until he finally met the wall he was feeling for and leaned his forehead against it, "I'm sorry, dad," he whispered and ran his fingertips along the wall, the raised paint his mother put on the wall five years ago, still there.

Still comforting him.

Elliot furrowed his brow, "For what? You're a teenager son… you've got years of –"

"I'm sorry, I make things so hard for you and Mom. I don't want to… I just… I'm confused now. More than when you saved me. So much more, now."

Elliot stood and took in a deep breath, "Samuel?"

Sam's jaw clenched as the fingers on his good hand roamed the wall, looking for the encouraging Braille of his parents, "Yeah?"

"You know why we named Abel, Abel?"

Sam pulled back from the wall, his fingers stilling, "Abel? What's he got to do with anything?" he said. Tense and suddenly more panicked.

Elliot assessed his son, took note of the sudden worry. Apparently, Abel had more to do with Sam then either he or Olivia could expect, "Sam?... Are you bothered the we adopted Abel?"

"No."

"Do you think you might hurt him?" Elliot asked, his head tilting as he stared at his son's back, "You used to think about Isaac-that you would hurt him… you never have, you know?"

"I know."

"So… why'd your body tense when I mentioned Abel?"

Sam licked his lips, bit his bottom one, "My hand hurts. Bad."

Elliot nodded, "You know… you like to change the subject a lot. You've never mastered a sly way of doing it though."

Sam furrowed his brow, "Do you think I could be a fag, dad? Like the boys say?"

Elliot straightened, his son's brain moved a million miles an hour with thoughts and worries, but today it was on overdrive and Elliot was struggling to make sense of it. "First of all," Elliot said softly and gently pulled on his son's shoulder, "face me like the man you are and let's talk like men do… I don't turn my back to other men. Face me and talk to me, son."

Sam turned slowly, his father's hand guiding him, "I figured it out, you know?" he said softly.

"What? The greenhouse effect, 'cause I'm all ears on th-"

"Why you hated for me to wear pink… why you hated that shirt I had and why you hated the speedos… It took me awhile, but I figured it out… you thought it would make me gay-"

"That. Is. Not. True," Elliot said, nostrils flared, "Not true! Who told you that?"

Sam arched his brow, "You did… not in those words, but… you did, Dad. And I've tried so hard to be a man. To be like you, but," Sam shook his head and his face contorted to pain, "I'm nothing like you, am I?"

Elliot smirked, "The ah, hole in the wall…. Well your mother would say you're exactly like me."

"Anyone can hit a wall, dad… that doesn't make you a man."

"And wearing pink doesn't make you gay."

"Then, why do they call me a fag? No one ever calls you that."

Elliot exhaled, licked his lips and scrambled to fix this, "Sam, the word fag… all that does is promote hate. And wearing pink… that doesn't make you gay, son. It makes you a guy that likes pink."

Sam wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffled, "Then why do they call me gay? I haven't done anything to them… why did my dad call me that? Why did grandpa call me that all the time?"

"Sam-"

"Why… why am I so scared of Crystal… she's a girl, right? She's a girl and I'm a boy and I should want to be inside of her, right?"

"No," Elliot said softly, "No. Not at all."

Sam shook his head, his brows furrowing as his lips fell into an anguished frown and his body slid down the wall, "I don't know what to do. And in my dreams… I want to kill him."

Elliot's eyes grew wide, blue saucers suddenly filled with confusion, "Kill who?"

"All of them."

"The boys at school?"

Sam shook his head, "No," he whispered, "White. Dad. My grandfather."

"Sam, you've got to start talking, son. You've got to let me in."

"Why?" Sam whispered and wiped a falling tear, "Why dad? You'll think I'm gay too-"

Elliot furrowed his brow, "Son… that never crossed my min-"

"Don't lie to me dad. You had to have thought it at least once, you and Mom had to have thought about it… I think about it… I think I'm scared of Crystal, to be inside of her, and that can't be normal. Boys who like girls, can't be scared of that, right? It's not normal. I'm not normal."

Slowly, Elliot lowered his body to the floor and sat across from his son, "You're not gay, son… you're confused about a lot of stuff right now and the only thing that your mom and I have really ever talked about, I mean, in terms of your sexuality, is that you might have a hard time being intimate with a woman."

Sam furrowed his brow, "What?"

"Sam," Elliot placed his hand timidly on his son's shin, "what your family did to you was wrong. It wasn't your fault and it doesn't mean your gay or not a man at all. It means that you might have a few speed bumps along the way."

Sam raised his face to his father's words, "How do you know dad? How do you know I'm not gay?"

"Because," Elliot said softly, surprised when his eyes watered with emotion, "even though you haven't trusted me completely, even though you've never given me your whole heart like you have your mom-"

"Dad-"

"Don't lie to me, son," Elliot whispered softly and smirked when he felt a tear fall to his beard. "It's okay. It's understandable that it's taking you a lot of time to trust me and to love me with open arms, but… even though you don't trust me completely, even though you haven't learned my whole heart… I've learned yours," he sniffled softly and gently placed his palm over Sam's chest. "I know it like my own hand."

Sam sat still for a few moments and then, slowly, covered his father's hand with his good one, "If you know my heart so well… what does it say? Because I don't think I know it at all."

Elliot swallowed, "It tells me you're a man. A good man, who loves his family and his friends. It tells me that God is who keeps you in check, it tells me that you'll work through things with Crystal and it tells me that… you are… Samuel. A sometimes hot headed little boy, just like me, but someone who loves so deeply… that it hurts… You get that from your mother."

"Mom said things would be different. I thought they would be different by now."

Elliot lowered his hand and moved to sit side by side, his back to the wall, "I suppose," Elliot took a breath, "it depends on how you look at it."

"Nice. I'm blind," Sam smirked and leaned his head back against the wall.

"You don't have to be able to see, to feel food in your belly or the water over your body in the pool, do you?" Elliot asked softly.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Sam whispered, "I don't get you."

"Well, Sam… I could let you moan and groan that things are the same since your mother and I adopted you, but… are they? I mean, let's look at it… did your father, take you swimming?"

"No," Sam furrowed his brow.

"Voice lessons?"

"No."

"Feed you regularly?"

"No."

"School?"

"No."

"New clothes? Shoes?"

Sam swallowed, "I get it."

"Do you?" Elliot asked gently, "Things are different for you, Sam… but it can't all be fixed… Your mom… it took her a lot of years… to… trust… to trust love and trust being with me."

"She was scared of you?"

Elliot straightened out his legs in an effort to stall for time, "I don't think she'd ever admit it-"

"That's mom," Sam smirked.

"Yeah, no joke," Elliot chuckled, then grew serious, "but, I think she was scared of me. Of being loved by me."

"Of having sex with you? Kissing you? Stuff like that?"

Elliot nodded sadly, "Yeah, I think so."

"Mom's not gay."

Elliot grinned, "Lucky for me."

Sam cringed "Gross."

They chuckled together, there on the floor of Sam's bedroom, chuckled and smiled in the midst of Sam's confusion and bitterness, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"You and mom… take really good care of me… I know that, you know?"

Elliot nodded, "I know."

"Do you think…Dad, do you think if I asked mom about…" Sam let his voice fall, "Never mind."

"Say it… what do you want to ask Mom?"

Cautiously, Sam spoke, "Well… like… _why isn't_ she gay?"

Elliot shook his head in an effort to make sense of Sam's jumble and then it dawned on him exactly what Sam was asking. His brows shot up in shock. Neither he nor Olivia anticipated a conversation like that. Sure there would be general things, but never an actual no holds bar conversation about it. He swallowed, "You want to talk to your mother about her attack?"

Sam licked his lips, nodded, "Yeah… like, why she's not afraid of you anymore. How she got that way, how she got better."

Elliot's eyes flitted across the room, "I'm not sure, how she'd feel about that… it's still… a little rough for her to talk about, Sam."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I don't like talking about my grandpa either," he sniffled and let tears fall from his eyes, "I don't like to. But I want Crystal and I'm scared of her at the same time, and that's not normal."

"Ha" Elliot wrapped his arm around his son, "I was terrified of dating your mother. Her in all her glorious beauty… my tongue and thoughts could never get it together, I'm sure she thought I was a bumbling idiot for years."

Sam sniffled again and he knew his father was trying to lighten the load but it was too heavy. Too much. Samuel was a shattered boy, "How can you know my heart, Dad? How can you when it's so broken and dark and messed up, all the time?"

Elliot pulled Sam into his body and let out a sob as they cried together, "Because," he struggled for his words, "I know my own heart… and I gave you mine the moment I met you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Is Sam okay?" Olivia asked sleepily as Elliot slid into the sheets next to her and suddenly pulled her close and tight against his body, his nose deep into her hair, his lips gently pressed against her hair and scalp, "Maybe, I should ask if your okay?" she said softly and turned to face him.

"I'm okay," he assured her and gently touched his fingertips to her split brow. "You'll have a bruise tomorrow."

She smiled small, afraid to aggravate her lip, "I'll be okay. I'm buff, you know?"

Elliot smiled softly, "Where's Alex?"

"She straightened up the boys' bathroom for us and my guess is, crawled in bed… she's not talkin'."

Elliot nodded, "I'm going to cancel the bar-b-que-"

"No way!" Olivia said wide-eyed, "No. We haven't seen our friends in a long time, Elliot. I miss them. I want them here.

"Liv… you can't sleep for a few more hours, the boys-"

"Are suspended," she arched her brows, daring him to protest, "they're suspended for ditching and fighting… they got that from you by the way."

He chuckled, rested his hand on her hip, his thumb finding it's way to smooth bare skin, "You'll be tired."

"Elliot," she leaned to him, kissing the corner of his mouth, "I want them here. I want to… I want to be just as proud to have Abel here as we were with Sam and Isaac and the monsters and that means… having our friends with us. Besides, we missed Chloe's birthday and she's pregnant."

Elliot's eyes bulged, his grin borderline ridiculous, "Really? When did you find out?"

She shrugged her shoulder and smiled, "It's not official. Just a hunch."

"A hunch?" Elliot smirked, "That'll hold up well."

Olivia licked the split in her lip, "I bet you one of those sexy dances, I'm right."

"Oh please," Elliot teased her and pushed his hand further up her camisole, "Your sex dance promises don't hold a lot of water with me."

Her mouth fell open in shock, "What?"

He laughed, "You still owe me one from a really long time ago… I stripped for you and you never delivered the goods."

She squinted her eyes in a challenge, "Fine. Sexy dance and..." she let her voice trail off and her fingers walk to his groin. He moaned at her caress, "I got a sexy dance and then," she massaged him firmly, "well, I've got things…. But uh. I'll be right so you better get used to a g string."

He grinned, "Dance in a g string for me and I will gladly take the bet," he told her and offered his hand.

She took his offer, "I've got a g string and a dance that says Chloe is pregnant."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot rolled over, the sun peeking through the curtains of their French doors and bringing him into wakefulness. He stretched out his arm, hoping to feel the smooth and sexy skin of his wife and instead, felt the smooth, cold sheets. His eyes jerked open in alarm and he sat up immediately, his eyes darting toward the bathroom, "Liv?"

No answer.

Elliot flung back the comforter to the bed and padded quickly down the hallway. He'd tried not to fall asleep, really he did, but between all the activity that had happened since Sam had come home in handcuffs, his body was exhausted. But, he was worried that Olivia would have woken up, gone to the living room and fallen asleep… with the possibility of having a concussion.

Damnit.

He trotted faster. "Liv!" he called louder and then stilled at the most precious sight he could have come across in all the chaos that they had endured in the two weeks that had passed them by.

Here, in the quiet morning hour, as the sun awoke, creeping slowly into the sky, Olivia lay sleeping and stretched out on their sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles, her glasses still covering her eyes. A book in one hand.

The other protecting Abel as he slept on her chest.

He smiled to himself and remembered when Isaac was an infant and she would wait up for him while he worked a case. He would carefully pick Isaac up out of her arms and then carry her to the bed so she could sleep.

Or they could make love.

But this… this was amazing. Olivia, with Abel laying sweetly on her chest, her slender fingers covering his pampered bottom as his tiny body rested over her larger one.

The pure trust of an infant.

Olivia's ability to trust the infant. To let him be this intimate with her. It blew his mind. He moved about the house quickly until he found their camera, and within minutes, he held a carefully composed digital image of his wife and their son.

Trusting one another.

He kneeled slowly next to her and his knee popped loud enough to cause her to stir, her brows furrowed and her lids fluttered open, "El?"

He smiled softly, his hand covering hers over Abel's bottom, "You're breaking rule number one of head trauma… I'll take you to the hospital if you keep breaking rules, you know?"

She licked her lips, smiled in exhaustion, "I don't have a concussion," she protested. "But, if you don't let me get some more sleep… you will."

He laughed, his grin wide and beaming as he reached for their son, "Let me lay him d-"

"No," she shook her head and gently pushed his hand away. "No… let him stay, huh? Just for a few more minutes."

Elliot's brows rose in pleasant surprise, "Really?"

Her finger's rubbed Abel's back gently as his tiny breaths filled the small space between the three of them, "I just… he was fussy, and so I changed him and… I don't know…"

His brow twisted into confusion, "Liv… if you want to hold him, you can. You don't have to justify it… he's your son, you know?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, "I just… he was fussy and… and…"

"What?" he prodded, "tell me."

She blushed and looked down at the small boy, "I sang to him and he went right to sleep, and I felt like… like I might be able to do this."

He leaned into his wife, his nose nuzzling her cheek, "You can do anything Liv… he loves you, that's why he quieted down. He knows you won't hurt him. He's trusting that you'll fall in love with him."

She brought her free hand to the nape of Elliot's neck and pressed her lips against his forehead, "You haven't been taking your joint medicine… that pop sounded bad."

He chuckled, shook his head softly and sat back to look at her, "You're pretty amazing, you know that?"

She looked at him in curiosity, rested her warm palm on the back of Abel's head, "How do you figure?"

Elliot jutted his chin to the infant, "Him. You. This… you're amazing, Olivia."

She smiled small, the pain of her lip still hindering her, "You're buttering me up for something."

"No," he grinned and kissed her cheek softly, "No, that one was free."

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"Mommer!" Solomon cried in the middle of the hallway, his fists balled and rubbing his tired eyes. "Mommer!" he cried harder and tried to take in breath, his body shuddering as he cried for his mother.

"Solo?" Olivia called back, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and making her way to the hall, discarding the towel on the back of the couch. She narrowed her brows at him in curiosity and gave a gentle smile, "Honey, what's wrong?"

His belly heaved with his struggling breath; he wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and watched her as she kneeled in front of him, "I wanna go school."

She laughed, "No way! Whose gonna keep me company?"

He sniffled, "But I big boy."

"Yep, and all big boys take care of their mommer," she laughed and scooped him up, "What's with the grumpy pants this morning?"

"A monster in my noodle."

Olivia smiled and tickled his belly, "Bad dream, huh?"

"Yeah," his eyes grew wide as he shook his head, "you feed me and makes it better?"

Olivia kissed his cheek through a smile, "Just like your daddy. Food heals all."

"Mommer, I get cakes?"

"Pancakes?" Olivia laughed and carried him back into the kitchen with her, "How about French toast?"

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"You look terrible," Olivia said softly as Sam finally made his way into the kitchen.

"Thanks, mom. That helped a lot."

She laughed and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him tight, "Is this okay?" she whispered into his ear, still concerned with his outburst, with his sudden change in demeanor

He exhaled, pulled her tighter, "I'm sorry."

"I know," she whispered and rubbed his back, "I know… but you're still going down."

He chuckled, "Court isn't gonna have mercy, huh?"

"Nope," she said playfully and tickled his side before kissing his temple and whispering, "We'll figure it out, Sam… I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me this morning?"

He pulled away suddenly and furrowed his brows, "Dad talk to you?"

Olivia stared in confusion, "About what?"

He was immediately suspicious, "I'm not walkin'."

She nodded still confused, "Okay… want breakfast?"

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"Thomas is getting pretty big," Olivia told Alex as she handed her a cup of hot tea and they both sat on the deck together watching their children play in the back yard.

Alex nodded miserably and took a sip of the tea, "Yeah."

"Looks more and more like Rober-"

"I'm not talking about it, Olivia so don't try that detective crap on me," she snapped and didn't so much as look at her friend.

"And I happen to care a lot about you, so don't try that, I-don't-need-anyone-crap on me… we know each other, Alex… what's going on? Talk to me," Olivia encouraged and when there was no answer, "Robert called."

"I'm meeting with a divorce attorney today," Alex mumbled.

Olivia's brows met her hairline, "Alex… a divorce attorney? Are you sure that's what you want?"

Alex swallowed the emotion in her throat. No. No that's not what she wanted at all. She wanted to go home, she wanted to tell him that she was so sorry, that she loves him so much, that she'll do whatever he wants of her to prove her worth. She took a sip of her tea, watched as Sam played and wrestled with the kids and Hannah made certain no one touched her brother's 'hurted hand'. She pictured, in her mind kneeling at her husband's feet and begging for forgiveness. Imagined him telling her she was forgiven and envisioned him making love to her if only to claim her as his again.

"Alex?"

"Yes," Alex nodded and took another sip of her tea, avoiding her hopes of him forgiving her, "I've thought about it, Olivia and a divorce is exactly what I want. I'm tired of being with him."

Olivia furrowed her brow in disbelief, "Well that's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard, I mean aside from your house being fumigated."

Alex winced and shook her head, "Just shut up, Olivia."

Olivia shook her head slowly, the bitterness of her friend told her only one thing, that she was hurting beyond anything she'd experienced before.

"Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I'm snapping."

Olivia smiled softly, "It's understandable… I'm just asking that you hold off on a divorce attorney. That's all. I mean… have you even talked to Robert?"

Alex rolled the warm mug her in palms and watched as Isaac chased Thomas around the back yard and playfully tackled him in a heap of laughter, "Where's Elliot?" Alex asked in an effort to change the subject, "I thought there was a massive bar b que going on today."

"There is," Olivia responded, fully aware her friend was changing the subject, "Fin called him about an hour ago to consult on a case but they'll be back in time for the bar b que…. You know… uh, we invited Robert before we knew you two were having trouble."

"We're not having trouble, Olivia."

"Right, right. I forgot. You're camping out at my house with your son, avoiding your husband's calls… right, that can't possibly be a sign of trouble. In fact, I think that's total marital bliss."

Alex rubbed her forehead and temple, "Shut up, Olivia."

"What happened, Alex? This is ridiculous."

"Olivia. Shut. Up," Alex ground out and slammed her coffee mug on the rail of the deck's banister and called down to the group of kids, "Thomas, let's go honey."

"Alex," Olivia stood and tried to calm her as much as possible. "Alex, I'm sorry-"

"Just forget it," Alex shook her head and held out her hand for her son, "come on Thomas."

"Alex, please," Olivia said and touched her forearms softly, "we want you here… we just want to help you too."

Alex scooped her young boy in her arms, "I'll be late seeing the attorney if I don't get going. I'll see you guys tonight and then Thomas and I will go to my mother's."

"Alex-"

"Bye."

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"What's going on with Carp?" Elliot asked Fin as they examined a small room of a run down apartment where the paramedics had just removed a rape victim who Elliot could wager his house, she wasn't gonna make it through the night.

"What'dya mean?" Fin asked as he knelt beside the bed, "Did you call Mac?"

"Yeah," Elliot nodded, "He's gonna meet Carp at the hospital… what's going on with Carp and don't play stupid, Fin. He looks terrible."

Fin chuckled as he flipped through, what appeared to be mail, "You didn't look too hot when Isaac was born, either… he's got a new baby at the house, man… of course he looks like crap."

Elliot continued to search the room, continued to look for any evidence that could give them a clue as to what motivated the attack, "It's more than that, Fin… he went completely white when we asked him to go down to the hospital to see if he could get a statement."

"I don't know why. He practically lives there. I think he and the misses are going at eachothers throats right now."

"Ah," Elliot smirked, "post partum for the ladies, hell for us."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Has Alex talked to you?" Olivia asked as she adjusted Abel in the new-born sling that wrapped around her body and kept him close to her as they walked through the grocery store.

"No," Casey exhaled and smiled, "she's pissed though, at us I mean."

"Yeah, no kidding," Olivia shook her head and let her fingers run tiny circles along Abel's body.

"Not nearly as pissed as Solomon was when you dropped him off with Nicole at the gym."

Olivia laughed, remembering the tantrum he threw and how much of a kick Hannah had gotten out of watching her brother moan and groan. She'd simply walked away to the play area, "He woke up grumpy, but I'm glad Paul offered to take Sam… I'm not sure what's gotten into Sam again, much less Isaac, but they are giving me gray hair."

Casey smiled and motioned to Abel, "Can I hold him?"

"Huh?" Olivia asked and then recovered, "Oh, yeah. Sure," she smiled and gently removed Abel from the comfort of the sling and placed him in her friends arms, "He slept pretty well, considering the drama all night."

"Yeah," Casey nodded and motioned to Olivia's face with her chin, "your mug have anything to do with how pissed Alex is?"

"No," Olivia exhaled and stared down at the packages of meet, "Beef or chicken?"

"Chicken… you don't think Robert is having an affair do you?"

"Na," Olivia shook her head and placed a pack of chicken breasts in a plastic bag and tossed it into the basket, "Alex would murder him."

"He wouldn't hit her, would he?"

"Only if he wanted Alex to hit back…. Followed by all of us," Olivia laughed, "No, he wouldn't do that."

"Then what do you suppose the problem is?" Casey asked in wonder, "Those two were the happy ones, you know? The only ones out of all of us that hadn't ended up at Vivian's."

"I like Vivian. She's helped a lot with Elliot and me."

"Me too," Casey nodded and exhaled, "What are we going to do for Alex?"

"Well," Olivia stopped pushing the basket, "she won't be back tonight… and probably not for a while longer, she's pretty upset. I mean she said she'd be back but I have a feeling that was just to get me off her case."

"Well… what are we gonna do? We can't just sit here and do nothing while their marriage goes to crap."

"What can we do besides be there for her, Casey? She won't budge on what the problem is, so we can't help her fix it… you can tell she's miserable."

"Why don't you think she's coming back?" Casey asked as she reached for a bag of tortilla chips and then another one.

Olivia placed jars of salsa in the basket and smiled when she caught Abel looking right at her as he rested in Casey's arms, "She said she was going to her mother's."

"So?"

"Her mother wasn't even invited to her wedding, Case. I think I've heard her talk about her mother once or twice, I'm not even sure her mother know about Thomas… she hates her. There's no way she'd go to her mothers."

"Mommy!" Isaac grinned and pulled at her shirt, "Mommy can we get that?" He asked urgently as he pointed to the popsicles in the frozen food freezer.

Olivia shook her head, "Nope. I'm not rewarding fighting at school. You're on lockdown and lockdown means no popsicles."

His brows rose in shock, "Wha? Not cool."

Casey laughed and adjusted a drooling baby in her arms, "Isaac, do me a favor and go get us some bagel bites like the one Paul gives you, they are at the very end, right there," she told him and smiled when Isaac looked at his mother, checking for permission to venture off in the store even if it was in the same aisle.

"Take him," Casey laughed, "he's getting me soaked with all the drool."

Olivia smiled, took Abel in her arms and looked down at him, his perfect round cheeks, his golden skin, "Elliot says he makes a face when he first gets wet for a bath… he says he looks like me."

Casey assessed her friend and the small boy, even if Olivia was skittish about the infant, she'd made progress, smiling down at him instead of staring down like a deer caught in headlights. She held him a little differently today, more confidently and Casey caught Olivia eyeing him time after time in the rear-view mirror on their way to pick up groceries for the bar b que. "Well, Olivia, it is possible, you know."

Olivia nodded and tucked him safely back in the sling before wiping her thumb along his mouth to clear the drool off, "I know… he's pretty cool."

"Yeah… okay, look," Casey took a breath, "if we can't get through to Alex because she's protecting Robert by not telling us what he did… we could break Robert. Paul and Elliot could do it. Find out what the problem is, and then we fix it… what do you think?" Casey asked and furrowed her brow as Olivia stared past her.

"Olivia?" Casey snapped her fingers and when Olivia never responded she followed her gaze and saw Isaac, standing at the end of the frozen food aisle, a red box of Beagle Bites in his hand, the freezer door still opened as he stared across the aisle at a woman who seemed oblivious to him.

"I don't believe it," Olivia said hoarsely and watched as the woman continued to talk on her cell phone, her daughter standing near her. She was obviously expecting another child any day now.

"Believe what?" Casey shook her head and watched as Isaac continued to simply stare at the woman, transfixed as if he'd known her from somewhere and his young brain was trying to figure out where.

Olivia watched as her son pushed his glasses up and continued to hold the item his aunt had requested he get for her. Olivia's eyes grew wider as the pregnant woman closed her cell phone and placed it in her purse in the cart and began to walk passed Isaac who simply followed her, starring.

"Please keep walking," Olivia whispered to herself unconcerned with Casey, "Please, please keep walking."

The woman stopped just as soon as Isaac had said, "Hi. I'm Isaac."

Olivia gasped. Isaac was not like Sam in the sense that he would randomly introduce himself to a stranger but Olivia knew this would happen. She knew that the woman in front of Isaac wasn't a stranger to him at all, at least not to his subconscious.

The woman slowly turned to Isaac and assessed the young boy, starring just as intently at him as he was at her.

"No," Olivia shook her head, "No," she pleaded and began to release tears.

Casey looked at the woman and then instantly back at Olivia and only two things came to mind. Adrianne. Thirteen months. "Oh, Liv-"

Olivia rushed passed her friend, her hand supporting Abel over her belly and she instantly grabbed Isaac's hand, taking his selection and putting it back before closing the door and taking his other hand, "It's time for home," she said hoarsely and felt a hand on her forearm. Felt her son startle from his mother's sudden command.

"Olivia?" Adrianne's brows raised and when Olivia finally made eye contact with the woman Isaac had thought was his real mother for all of those months, she gasped, "Oh my- I thought he looked familiar but…" her voice trailed off and she looked back at Isaac who simply continued to assess the woman with his large blue eyes.

Isaac felt his mother's hand on his hand. Tight. Afraid to let go and getting even tighter when the woman reached down and caressed Isaac's cheek. "We have to go," Olivia said firmly, pulling Isaac so he was shielded with her body.

"Oh, Olivia. I'm sorry… I didn't-"

"I hope you're doing okay," Olivia sputtered and motioned to the woman's bulging belly. "Goodbye," she nodded and ushered her son back to Casey who was waiting in an abundance of curiosity.

"I'm not gonna talk about it," Olivia told her, "so don't even ask."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Her whole intent would be to make Olivia feel better after running into Adrianne. "So," Casey chuckled as she and Olivia unloaded the groceries in preparation for the bar-b-que. "Paul and I are having sex in this bar's restroom-"

"Casey!" Olivia stared wide-eyed.

"What?" Casey smirked, "the kids are napping."

"I know," Olivia laughed, "but a public bathroom? Is that sanitary?"

"Olivia," Casey tilted her head with a grin, "I've been with that man a very long time… we need to spice things up a bit and besides the fantasy box was your idea."

"You guys have boxes?" Olivia grinned, clearly unable to hide her intrigue.

"We do now, and let me tell you," Casey nodded, "things are getting pretty hot for the Novaks."

Olivia laughed, shook her head, "You're a sick woman."

"No, you are…. We tried that dressing room thing… didn't work out of us."

"You tried the dressing room?" Olivia's brows arched, "Are you serious? What happened?"

"Nothing… a little girl ended up in the stall next to us right when we were ready to have a go… then it was just too nerve racking and you know what nerves do to sex."

Olivia shook her head, "Tell me about it," she muttered and Casey caught the misery in her voice instantly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Liar."

Olivia pulled the kabob skewers out of the top drawer and looked at Casey before exhaling, "Have you ever… I mean, has there been a time where… you struggled?"

"With what?" Casey asked not exactly following Olivia's new found seriousness.

"With… you know… uh, climaxing."

"Mmmm, after the attack, yeah," Casey said matter of fact.

"So… it's normal?" Olivia asked, biting her bottom lip.

Casey tilted her head, "To be attacked?"

"Casey," Olivia groaned, "Come on."

She laughed, her head tilted back and it dawned on Olivia that Casey was happier than she'd been in a long time. She looked younger, healthier and even more beautiful than she'd ever looked before and she was grateful that her friend had finally found her way.

"Olivia, come on. Level with me… are you having some trouble?"

Olivia blushed, pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, "Um… it's taking longer than usual."

"So? That just means a longer ride, right?"

Olivia rubbed the back of her neck, "Casey, it's… it's… difficult to."

"Difficult?" Casey furrowed her brow and put all banter aside, "Like, you don't have the desire to have sex or you're having problems in other areas," she let her devilish side take over, "is he too big?" she joked.

Olivia looked away, and folded her arms across her chest, "Casey don't be like that."

"Sorry," Casey smirked, "couldn't resist… but uh… I noticed you're not putting up much of a defense… is it painful?"

"No… that's just it," Olivia grumbled and exhaled in frustration.

Casey was confused, "It's not painful or he's too big? I'm confused."

"It's not anything, sometimes… like… I don't feel much of anything."

"Oh," Casey nodded, "that's got to suck."

Olivia groaned, "Forget it."

"No, no. We'll figure this out… have you talked to him?"

"I'm starting to think… I'm not satisfying him… like he doesn't want me."

"Um," Casey smiled, "You just told me on the way to the grocery store about a little laundry room action… sounds like he wants you to me."

Olivia ran the tip of her tongue along the split of her lip, "I don't think I'm satisfying him." She exhaled, shaking her head, "It's like… it has to be more frequent now, and I feel like I might make him feel like I don't want him if I don't have an orgasm, but… it's exhausting to stay on the edge for the whole time and never have any release and then go again."

Casey smiled in understanding, "Olivia… it's not like you don't have five million things on your plate… it could be just that you're under stress."

Olivia swallowed, bowed her head and her voice was so small Casey had to strain when she said, "I don't think he thinks I'm sexy anymore."

"Please," Casey scoffed, "that man worships the ground you walk on."

"Then… how come I'm not satisfying him? How come he needs it so much?"

"I don't know… ask him. But, you know… that fact that he wants to make love to you so much is totally voiding your whole argument that he doesn't find you sexy."

"He kissed me on the cheek this morning."

Casey furrowed her brow, "And that's a bad thing?"

"Well… usually when he leaves for anything SVU related… it's more than that, but this time… nothing. Not even a smack on the butt."

"Maybe you had bad breath," Casey shrugged, "I won't come near Paul if he hasn't brushed in the morning."

"I'd been up and dressed already… I don't know what to do."

"I think you're over reacting."

Olivia locked eyes with her simply stared in defeat.

"Olivia… Elliot is in love with you. You've got too much on your mind right now and a new baby in the house… come on, did you think that wasn't gonna touch your sex life?"

"It's never been a real problem before, I mean, yeah, once or twice but this is ongoing hit and miss and he asked me about it last night, Casey… What am I supposed to say? I can't come with you inside me anymore. I'm sure that's a real ego stroke."

"Olivia… lot's of women can't come with just penetration."

"It's never been a problem before, though. I mean… he never had to touch me if he didn't want too… but now it's sort of… if he doesn't… I can't."

Casey shrugged "Then tell him you're no longer strictly an _innie_ and now you're an _outie_ and you need his help… trust me, he wants to please you, Liv."

Olivia folded a paper sac and stared at the counter, "Do I look like I gained weight?"

"What?" Casey asked, caught off guard, "Are you serious? You're a work-out whore, Olivia… it doesn't even look like you have kids, which is just wrong considering my own body."

Olivia nodded, "My boobs are… lower than they used to be."

"Uh, let's see… I think I know three reasons why. Hannaah, Solomon and Isaac... I'm sure he still thinks you're sexy Olivia. Chill out. You're over reacting."

"I… sometimes I don't even want him to see me naked anymore. But then there are times like the laundry room…"

"Olivia," Casey reached across the counter and touched her hand gently, "you're freaking out over things that are perfectly normal… if you'd just talk to him you'd figure something out… did you have a problem in the laundry room?"

"No… just the deck."

"That could have something to do with the cool, you know?"

"Yeah," Olivia nodded unconvincingly, "I know."

"So," Casey propped her chin into her hand, "I'm a lot better now, Liv… I'm healthy… I can shoulder your burdens and carry you just like you did me, but… you've got to trust me to do it."

Olivia looked at her friend in sudden confusion, "I'm talking to you right now, Casey and for the record, I know you're healthy, you've been looking really good."

"Then… talk to me about Adrianne. Talk to me about what happened to you in that store today."

"No," Olivia shook her head, "No, Casey. And its not that I don't trust you… I just… he _remembered_ her… and that really hurts… I'm not ready to sit down and talk about it."

"You and Alex… should be shot."

The women erupted in laughter and Olivia was grateful for it. She was grateful for the relaxing atmosphere that Casey has learned to provide her. Friendship with Casey wasn't always easy in the wake of Alex's sudden departure from her life, but it grew and it developed and for awhile Olivia almost felt guilty that her relationship with Casey was stronger than Alex's.

Until Alex returned.

And the women formed an unbreakable triangle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How's Olivia?" Mac asked, tossing Elliot a sand which, "Turkey."

"She's good… get a statement?"

"Nope," Mac exhaled and slipped into his chair, "I don't think she'll live and our only other witness is in a coma… Carp is still there though."

"What's his deal?" Elliot asked around a bite of bread, "I mean, he's been a little off his game. Have you noticed?" he mumbled, trying to chew his food.

Mac leaned back in his desk chair, "Carp is having… some problems, I think."

"With his wife?"

"No… well maybe. But, those would be side effects," Mac shrugged, "He lives at that hospital and here… he should be at home with his little one."

Elliot leaned back in his own desk chair, chewing slowly, "Why's he at the hospital so much?"

"This case, man… he lives and eats this job and… this case is, well it's the worse one I've had on my desk."

"So you guys called me… I'm flattered."

Mac laughed, bent to the side of his desk and pulled up a large evidence box, "Don't be… I just want it solved so Carp stops looking like crap and his ol' lady stops calling here every ten minutes asking if he's okay."

Elliot opened the file and wish he hadn't. He'd been away from the true depths of SVU for too long.

Too long to comprehend a woman's skull bashed in.

Her face and body mutilated.

His wife had been mutilated.

He swallowed, closed the file with a reverence and quietly took a sip of his water, jumping when the phone rang.

"Stabler," he could barely manage and found himself gently pushing the file to the side of his desk as if it would make it disappear from his mind forever.

His wife had been raped. Mutilated. Left for dead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His sole intention was to get home to his wife. To make love to her. To cook her a meal and have an amazing time with their friends. But, he'd ran into Alex near the courthouse and the man next to her was the slimiest divorce attorney Elliot could recognize.

Which meant Robert would be crumbling.

Which is the only reason Elliot is standing outside at Robert's front door, right now. Elliot knew what it felt like to have your marriage go to crap and have your friends avoid you like the plague. He didn't want that for Robert. No matter what horrible thing Robert had done to cause Alex to leave, he didn't wanted him to feel like he didn't have anyone.

He knocked on the door and had had no idea what he was supposed to say when there was answer.

Which there wasn't.

Slowly, Elliot opened the front door of the Gray's home and was surprised that no alarm had went off, nothing was set to keep the occupants safe. He exhaled, "Robert? You here, man?"

No answer.

"Robert!" Elliot called into the house and shrugged off his jacket, draping it over a chair. "Come on man, your car is in the driveway."

Elliot put his hands on his waist, turned in a full circle as if he was anticipating Roberts appearance. When there was no sign of Robert, Elliot walked deeper into the house, wondering if this was what his home looked like when Olivia had left him. Food strung about. Dirty dishes in the sink. All this and only after a day.

Not good.

Elliot knocked on what he knew to be the master bedroom door, "Robert?" he called and gently pushed the door open, "Robert?"

No answer, but the shower was running. Elliot stepped into the room, "Robert? It's Elliot, get out here man. I got a bar-b-que to get to and you're coming," he laughed and when there was no reply, he walked further into the room. His feet squishing into the carpet, "What th-"

Elliot looked down, the water apparent and already soaking through his sneakers and into his socks, "Robert!" Elliot yelled, visions of his friend laying lifeless in bloody water. He ran to the bathroom, threw open the door. The shower curtain had been pulled, but there was water over flowing from the tub.

"Robert!" Elliot yelled and pulled back the curtain, prepared to pull a wet body from the water. Shocked to see Robert simply standing, the cold water pelting his chest as he stared at nothing.

Elliot didn't know what to do.

"Robert," Elliot reached out and touched his arm. He was cold. The tub was full, a rag unintentionally, blocking the drain. "Robert?" Elliot shook him again and Robert slowly turned his face to Elliot.

He was void. Even Elliot could see that.

Screw void, Robert's eyes were completely dead. Lost. Without the compass rose that is Alex. Robert stared and as if he'd suddenly realized what his wife had done, "Alex left me."

Elliot exhaled, "I know, man… come on."

Robert stared back at the tile, "Kiss my ass."

Elliot smirked, turned the water off and grabbed a towel, "Sorry, not my type. Get out of the shower, Robert," he told him and shoved the towel into his body before walking away and mumbling, "Naked man telling me to kiss his ass… disgusting."

"If you're not out in five seconds I'll drag you out! Ask Paul, I'm not playing with you!" Elliot yelled and when there was no reply he did an abrupt about-face and marched back to the shower. Elliot wrapped his arms around Robert who seemed bigger in the confines of the shower and yanked him out.

His body hurt and yelled at him to stop.

He continued, "Stop fighting!" Elliot yelled as Robert started to fight and squirm to be set free. The second his feet hit the ground he'd punched Elliot across the face. Elliot stumbled on his feet but regained his composure and wrestled a slippery Robert to the floor.

"Get out of my damn house!" Robert yelled, fighting for his freedom.

"Hey!" Elliot yelled, his forearm across the neck of his friend, "If you think I like wrestling with a naked man think again! I'm trying to help you out so you don't end up like I did, damnit!"

Robert struggled under the weight of Elliot, "Get off of me… please."

"You getting' dressed if I do?"

Robert nodded and Elliot released him, standing to his feet and looking down at his clothing, "Nice. Now Liv is gonna want to know why I'm wet."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mom?" Sam called into the house, "Mom, Uncle Paul let me drive!"

"Sam!" Paul scolded, "You can't tell people. Especially your mom!"

"Relax," Olivia laughed and wrapped her arm around Sam's shoulders, a gentle kiss on his temple, "I know his Dad lets him drive the truck all the time."

Sam's eyes popped, his mouth falling into a shocked, 'O', "How'd you know that?"

Olivia pulled him tight, her arms closing in front of him as she laughed in his ear, "Your mother knows everything… when ya gonna learn?"

"He's pretty good with a clutch," Paul grinned, ruffling Sam's hair.

Olivia smiled at Paul, thankful that he invested time in Sam, because sometimes, when things are really bad, its Sam's uncles that can calm him. It's that change of environment, even for a short time, that stills him and she knows that it's because Sam feels the love from Olivia and Elliot's friends.

He feels loved from others, but for some reason still thinks he has to earn his parents' love.

She'd have to keep working on that.

"Sam!" Isaac laughed and ran up to his brother, "hey, you wanna go on the computer with me?"

"Uh," Olivia interjected with a smile, "since when is there computer on lockdown?"

"Ah, mom!" Isaac groaned and flopped on the couch.

Sam smiled to himself and turned to face his mother's voice, "Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Where's Dad?"

"Work."

"Gym work?" Sam asked softly.

"No, sorry. Fin, Carp and Mac work."

"Oh man," Sam groaned and shook his head flopping beside his brother on the couch "he's gonna be all moody and stuff when he comes home," he said worriedly. "Mom, why does he sill have to work there? He comes home and he's upset and my bed isn't big enough for him to keep holding Isaac in it with me and-"

"Hey," Olivia smiled softly, "don't worry about your father… go do your homework."

"But I'm suspended… I don't have homework."

Olivia arched a brow, "If you could see my face right now… you'd know you're pretty close to death."

He smiled at his mother, "Okay, okay… can I have one of my pills though, first? My hand hurts."

"Sure… go say hi to Aunt Casey."

Sam grinned and sidestepped his mother, "Aunt Casey?"

"Get over here and hug me, Mr. Suspended until Monday."

He blushed and followed the sound of her voice hugging her tightly, "Hi… haven't heard you for awhile."

She chuckled, kissed the crown of his head ,"Missed you too."

"Hey," Sam pulled back, "Where's Aunt Alex? She with you?"

Casey exhaled, released her nephew, "Sorry. No."

Sam's lips were tight with thought and worry, "She's was here this morning… I heard her and mom fighting. I think she's pretty pissed at mom."

Casey nodded, "Maybe… did you want your pill?"

"Yeah… hey, do you think Uncle Robert will come today? I haven't heard him for awhile either," Sam told her, and listened for the squeak on the cabinet door. When it didn't happen he directed his aunt, "Mom keeps them in the middle cabinet on the shelf, but high so I can't get to them. Or at least she thinks I can't," He chuckled.

"Heard that!" Olivia called from the living room and Sam flinched but smiled.

Casey nodded, opened the cupboard, "Chloe is gonna be here today."

"I know… Uncle Paul took me shopping to get her something for her birthday 'cause we missed it, it's nice. It's a bracelet."

"A bracelet?" Casey laughed and filled a glass with water, "You trying to hit her up for a date?'

Sam took a breath and exhaled, "Aunt Casey… if I asked a girl out, does that make me a man? Like, when Uncle Paul asked you on a date… did you think he was a really great guy?"

Casey chuckled and filled a glass with water, "When Paul asked me out the first time I thought he was nuts."

"Nuts?" Sam asked and immediately took the glass when he felt it against his fingertips.

"Yeah… he was kind of… not a jock, I guess you could say."

"He was a dork?"

Casey laughed as she opened the medicine bottle, "Yeah. Exactly, but don't you dare-"

"Tell, him. I know," Sam smiled and tossed the pill into his mouth before chasing it down with the cool water. He finished, licked his lips, "But now, what do you think? He's a man, right?"

Casey arched her brow, "What gives, Sam?"

Sam shrugged, "Just being nosey."

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Olivia stared in shock. The dishtowel hanging in her hand as she slowly licked her battered lip and looked at Elliot who grinned in victory that he'd managed to get Robert into their home.

"How are you?" Olivia finally sputtered and tossed the rag to the counter, before closing the gap between her and her friend and embracing him warmly, "Cause you look like death warmed over."

Robert smiled miserably and accepted the embrace, "You've always had a way with words, Olivia."

She chuckled, pulled back and assessed him, "Well, you really do look like crap. Have you even eaten?"

"Help yourself, man," Elliot told Robert and even as Olivia observed the movements of her friend, she was very ware of the stress of her husband's shoulders, the slight frown on his face.

"El?" she smiled softly and motioned for Robert to go to the kitchen and indeed help himself.

Elliot plastered a weak smile and shook his head, "I'm gonna go get cleaned up and I'll start the grill."

"Hey, Olivia," Casey laughed as she made her way into the kitchen with Abel in her arms, "I think this kid is hungry."

Robert turned instantly and his beaming smile surprised everyone, "Can I see him?"

Casey's eyes flitted momentarily to Olivia who nodded and said, "Yeah, but if you hold him, you gotta feed him," she chuckled and went in search of her husband.

Robert peered down at the tiny infant in his arms and smiled, "Wow, he's a looker, huh Casey?"

"What'd you do to Alex?" Casey asked.

She never did know how to pull a punch.

Robert took a deep breath, let it out slowly, "Do you know where they keep the formula?"

"Same place it always is," Alex bit out and leaned one hand on the counter, tilted her head at him and stared with disdain as he reached for the can of formula. "What did you do to her Robert?" Casey demanded again.

He smiled down at the infant, smiled into infant blue eyes and wondered momentarily if they would get lucky enough for this tiny boy to have blue eyes. To pass him off as Elliot's son. "It's none of your business what I did to her," he told her softly. Not willing to disturb the perfect trust he held in his arms.

He missed his son, already. Missed his wife the moment he'd found out she had an affair. Missed her and would take her back at the drop of a hat, if she could only swallow her pride and admit she was wrong. Ask for forgiveness and explain to him where he went wrong to cause her to stray.

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"Elliot?" Olivia called into their room, he voice soft, curious as to his sudden change in mood.

Then again, SVU had that effect on him.

Perhaps it was not being embedded in it eighty hours a week, seven days a week, perhaps it was the hit and miss, the gaps in between cases hat allowed him to feel everything all the more painfully. The gaps in cases that gave him just enough time to stop hurting, to start feeling again.

To feel the intense hurt of a new victim.

He sat on the edge of their bed, his belt and pants unbuckled, but simply too exhausted and too out of it to continue to change. He kept his head bowed and she gently sat next to him, the mattress dipping slightly with her weight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulled him close to her and softly kissed his cheek, "It's only Robert and Casey that are here… we can cancel today, I'll tell them I don't feel well."

His smile was tender, his hand reached out and cupped her elbow, "No, Liv… I miss them too."

"Want to talk about your case?"

His eyelids closed slowly, his jaw clenched, "No."

She nodded in understanding and continued to hold him for several minutes, slightly shocked and partly amused that he would allow her to simply hold him. Hold him as if he were Sam.

"I love you," she said, after several more minutes passed them by.

He took breathed out slowly again and kissed her temple, "I bet you Casey is killing Robert, right now."

"Possibility," Olivia smirked and pulled back to look at her husband. "He tell you anything?"

Elliot shook his head, "Just that Alex, left."

Olivia nodded and in spite of the change of subject, she knew Elliot was in no mood to move on his own accord. She climbed onto her knees, positioning herself behind him and softly kissed his cheek from behind and began to unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie, "How come you're all wet?"

"Wrestled a naked man."

She couldn't help but to laugh next to him, her hands holding onto his strong chest, "Yeah, right."

"Serious," he grinned and it felt good to smile with his wife. "Pulled Robert out of the shower and he decided to take a swing."

"And of course you couldn't let that happen, huh?" she teased and gently kissed his neck, trailed her fingertips along his abdomen and was attempting to seduce him, attempting to take his mind off of anything bad and replace his thoughts with pleasure.

Until he stood up, walked away from her, "Sam thinks he's gay."

Not just a slap in the face.

A double slap.

"What?" she asked. What for both situations. What the heck was Sam thinking and what is it about her that makes her suddenly so undesirable to her husband.


	17. The Que

Silver Lining

Chapter 17

The Que

Sam was up to no good.

The fact that there was strife between his Aunt Alex and Uncle Robert was unsettling to him, and demanded that he fix it. Today. Now.

So he'd carefully snagged his father's cell phone the moment he sat on the couch and it smashed into his tailbone. The idea had hit him like a ton of bricks. And it was the best idea he'd had in a very long time.

He wasn't exactly sure why his Aunt Casey was badgering his Uncle, but he heard a stress in his Uncle's voice like when his mother is gonna loose her temper with one of the kids. But, it wasn't necessarily the stress in Robert's voice that worried Sam, so much as the accusation in his Aunt Casey's voice.

Why was_ that_ there?

He didn't know, but what Sam had been able to decipher from his mother's tight friendship with the two women, was that when one was in trouble, you had too watch out, because the other two would pounce like hungry lions on a sick zebra.

Sam kinda liked that, knowing his mother would be protected when he couldn't be there for her. But, what he didn't like, was fighting and apparently, that had to have been happening between Alex and Robert 'cause this was the first time that Uncle Robert had just shown up with his father to hang out without Aunt Alex or the rest of the guys and tonight was not football night and it wasn't any other night where his Uncle Robert should be here, holding his new brother, without his Aunt Alex close.

To him, this all added up to a fight.

That a simple phone call would fix.

And so, Sam secretly took the cell phone from the couch and stealthily slipped into the foyer closet to work his magic.

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"She's not here, Robert!" Casey snapped, "That's not normal, so why don't you just spill it!"

"Shhh," Robert raised his finger to his nose and softly shushed his nosey friend, "I have a sleeping baby in my arms, in case you haven't notice and I haven't really gotten to know this one yet."

"Ro-"

"Back. Off. Casey," Robert demanded. "My marriage is none of your business."

Boldly, she took a step forward, "My friend is my business," she hissed, her eyes scanning the house and watching for little ears that could pick up on their conversation, "if you hurt her-"

He'd grown tired of her accusation, "Shut. The hell. Up."

Casey was more the pit-bull type. Bite and never release. "That how you talk to her when we're not around? That why she left?"

His nostrils flared and Robert could feel the anger creeping throughout his body. He licked his bottom lip, placed the empty bottle on the countertop and stared at her in total anger, complete hate and absolute…sadness.

Was that possible?

Was there a _sadness_ under all of that anger? Casey furrowed her brows, narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you hitting her?"

He was gonna kill Casey if someone didn't get in there with them because the only thing that was saving Casey at this moment from having his hands wrapped around her pale little neck was the tanned little boy in his hands, "Go to hell, Casey!" he hissed at her, took a step forward. "You have no idea what happened between us so just shut the hell up for once in your overbearing life!"

Casey smirked, "I told Olivia the first time I saw you that you wouldn't make a good husband… that you'd hurt her. I'm always right."

Bad husband.

That had knocked the air out of him. For, that must have been why his wife strayed from the sanctity of their bed. Why she took their son from him. He must have been a bad husband and a bad father.

Or she would have never left.

His eyes had slowly leveled with his friend's wild ones. Her accusing ones.

And his, in a moment, had become glass.

Gently, Robert handed a sleeping Abel to Casey, fixed his blanket as she cradled him in her arms and confessed, "You're right, Case… I was a bad husband… and father."

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Olivia sat alone on the foot of their bed, the shower water running in the distance. The thought of her naked husband washing himself to get ready for a gathering of friends was enticing. It definitely produced the urge to join him.

But he'd pushed her away.

Olivia exhaled, pushed her glasses along the ridge of her nose and decided she'd better at least freshen up before everyone got there, and who knew… maybe once Elliot realized she was in the bathroom, he'd drag her into the shower with him.

Not that you can drag those who willingly come.

She grinned at the prospect and made her way into the bathroom and decided she deserved a sneak peak at her husband, because really, there was nothing better than a soapy, naked Elliot. Olivia bit her bottom lip pulled the shower curtain back just enough for her sneaky pleasure.

And she immediately frowned.

Minutes ago, he'd pushed her hand away from him. Deprived her of rendering him any pleasure before visiting with their friends. A move she wanted to do, because she knew it would be the wee hours of the morning before the last of their friends left and she and Elliot would most likely be too tired to do anything.

Really, she'd already decided that she just wanted to watch him come, watch his stress disappear with the softness of her mouth, the gentleness of her hands.

But he'd pushed her away.

Only to stand in the shower, his palms bracing himself against the tile, the water beating at the crown of his head. She could spot his erection at full attention the moment he'd reached for the soap.

Rejected, her smile fell and she walked away from the shower to rummage for her hair brush.

"Liv?" he called, almost startled the moment he heard the drawer open and then slam shut.

She ran the brush almost ruthlessly through her hair, her lips tight as she stared at her self in the mirror. Was that a damn wrinkle in her neck? She puffed out a breath of air, a breath of annoyance really and let the brush fall to the countertop before securing her angry pony tail with an elastic band.

"Liv?" Elliot called again and peeked out of the shower, "honey, you okay?"

She arched her brow and glared at him in the mirror before turning around and angrily demanding, "I want a damn boob job!"

In confusion, Elliot did the only think he knew to do and wiped his hand over his face, "Huh? Why?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, knew he was purposely shielding his body to hide the fact that he'd been masturbating minutes after he'd turned her down. She shook her head, turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, "Because," she said miserably, and exhaled her fight, "I just… do."

Before he could tell her there was no way in Hades she was getting one, because that would wreck the perfect body she already had, she'd walked out and very quietly closed the door.

But there was a whole lot of loud in that quiet and he knew it.

"Oh man," he whispered to himself and ducked back under the shower stream before hearing the door angrily burst open and his very upset wife erupt.

"And I'm thinking about vagioplasty too!" she hollered and did the unthinkable.

She flushed the toilet.

Elliot groaned and jumped as the door slammed shut.

Inside the shower, Elliot smirked and shook his head, "Not getting that either. No way are you messin' that up."

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"Sam?" Olivia ducked her head into her son's room and smiled as Isaac slipped out of his bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Morning, Mommy."

Olivia, in spite of herself, grinned at her son, "Morning? Honey, Chloe and Donovan and Uncle Robert are here and Uncle Mac and Fin… it's still night time sleepy."

He yawned and lazily walked over to his mother, his blue eyes bright even in his sleepy stage. He leaned his head along her hip and wrapped his arms around her, "Love you, Mommy."

She ruffled his bed head and kneeled down in front of him, "What's with this seriousness, huh?"

"Bad dream… can I not have naps? I'm a big boy now, like Sam. Sam doesn't take naps."

"Which is why he's always grumpy," Olivia teased, "Where is your brother anyway?"

"He sneaked into the closet."

Olivia laughed, "Really? Why?" Isaac shrugged but the features of his face told his mother there was something on his mind. "You okay, Rookie?"

"Told you. Bad dream."

"Really?" Olivia furrowed her brows, "What about? Can you tell me?"

Isaac gently placed his hand over his mother's chest, "Where is Sam's hand, Mommy? Where is Nanah's and Solo's?"

Olivia licked her lips and exhaled, "Um, well… you're the only one I did this with."

"How come?" he asked her and tilted his head to take her response into consideration. He looked like his father when he did that. Interrogated someone.

"Cause… I wanted to," she said in hopes that would solve his curiosity.

It didn't.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?" she whispered and she knew what was coming. She knew someday it would come but she never thought it would be this soon. Then again, Isaac did everything on his own time table.

"My dreams… they're all dark and super scary, like when the lights first go out but Sam lets me turn them on 'cause he says they don't bother him… my dreams are super dark like that and I'm all by myself. I'm scared in my dreams."

She furrowed her brows, touched his cheek with the softness of her palm, "They're just dreams baby. Not true."

He grabbed her hand with his two smaller ones and held onto it between their bodies. Held on for what seemed like dear life. "Can they be, Mommy?"

She rubbed the thumb of her captured hand along his and smiled softly, "Dreams are just pictures while you sleep baby. That's all."

"But they're not pictures!" he told her adamantly, "No," he shook his head "No. They got words!"

Olivia arched her brows, "Words?"

"Yeah!" he shook his head, "Yeah. The girl talks to me and she tells me it's okay and sometimes she plays with me but then… it's really scary and his voice is super scary and then… she sings me your song, mommy and everything is okay, and then there is the sun and then a bang!" he told her with large eyes as he let go of her hand to take her shoulders hostage to his scary story and gripping fingers.

"A bang?" Olivia asked, her hands resting on his small hips, "Was that what was scary?"

"No," he shook his head then recovered, "yeah! But not real scary. Not like the monsters voice! Then it's super weird 'cause I can see you but you're not holding me and the song isn't right but it makes me not scared."

Olivia closed her eyes, took into consideration that Isaac could possibly be remembering more than she ever thought he would…or could. "Honey, can I tell you som-"

"Mommy?" Isaac cut her off, "Can little boys have two mommies?"

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Two mommies?

She needed a break.

"Honey," Olivia smiled and stood to her feet, holding out her hand for her young son, "I am the only Mommy that you need. And do you know what that means?"

He licked his lips, grinned, "I'm the only boy you need?"

She laughed, "Yeah, but I might need one more boy… can you go find your brother for me? I need to tell him that Crystal is coming."

Isaac's mouth fell into a surprised 'O', "Crystal?"

"Yeah… I think they need to talk, don't you?"

"Will that make Sammy not grumpy no more?'

"Anymore… and… I think it'll help a bit. Can you go get him please?"

Isaac grinned, there was nothing like doing something for his mother. He darted through the house and stopped the moment he saw the gathering of people, "Hi!" he squeaked, and waved randomly, before diving into Finn's lap and laughing as he hugged him, "be careful Uncle Fin. Horace is loose in the house," he warned and quickly made his rounds, kissing and hugging and being a complete ham as Olivia playfully followed him and swatted his behind, "I need your brother! Focus, Rookie."

Isaac took off for the foyer.

"Olivia?" Fin furrowed his brows, "Whose Horace?"

"Olo's snake," Hannah giggled as she sat, curled in Cragen's lap, "But gand'pa Kegger, him's gonna get me a kitty."

"Hannah Elizabeth!" Olivia warned, "We've talked about it! No kitty!"

"Hannah Elizabeth," Cragen whispered into the youngster's ear and playfully eyed Olivia, "we've talked about it… and I'll get you whatever you want."

Hannah chuckled knowing full well Grandpa Cragen would spoil her to death.

"Nanah Wizabth!" Solomon waved his finger at her and mirrored his mother's frown, "No Kitty!"

Hannah eyed her brother with disdain, "I gonna punch you."

"Mommer!"

"Hey!" Donovan laughed and scooped up the young boy, "you can't start something and then cry about it!"

"Yeah!" Mac laughed and looked around the house, "where the heck is that horse you got anyway?"

"Zeus and Moses," Olivia smiled, "are outside waiting for Elliot to put the meat on the grill in hopes he'll drop some."

"Hey," Donovan laughed and shifted Solomon onto his back; the tiny boy's giggles causing laughter throughout. "Where is Elliot, anyway?"

Olivia tensed, only slightly.

_Jacking off_.

"Finishing his shower, I'll get him."

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Isaac Stabler was on a mission to find Samuel. And he'd known exactly where he'd gone because he'd seen him take their father's cell phone from the couch and he'd watched him in confusion as he walked so quietly to the foyer closet and closed the door. What does a boy do in a dark place with a phone anyway? Isaac wondered.

He didn't so much like dark spaces. Especially the small ones and he thought that since his mother was always gripping about there being so much stuff in the hall closet, even after his father had cleaned it out, well, the closet must be small.

Like the shower when the curtain is drawn.

Like the time out area when the divider is put up.

Like his dreams. Small and dark.

And super scary.

But his brother was cool. Sammy was probably playing with him, or so he thought. But why would he need a phone to play with him? Isaac didn't have a phone and you have to both have a phone to talk right?

Isaac licked his lips as he approached the foyer closet, the chuckling of his family muffled by the distance between them. "Brother?" Isaac called though the door, "hey, Sammy? You in there?"

"Go away Isaac," Sam hissed through the door, "I'm busy, dude."

"Busy?" Isaac tilted his head, "But… but I'm me."

Sam chuckled within, "I know who you are. I'll be out in a sec. I'm on the phone!"

"How come you're on the phone in the closet? It's dark in there!" Isaac told him.

"Duh!" Sam said in annoyance, "it's always dark for me! Let me know when it's light. Then you'll be on to something! Now, go away!'

"I want to see!"

"That makes two of us!" Sam said and thudded against the door in an effort to send his brother squirming.

His brother had his mother's relentless curiosity.

Isaac reached for the door knob and opened it in a flurry, "Who ya callin'?" he chuckled.

Sam grinned, "You're such a brat! Want to know a secret?"

Isaac's blue eyes grew large with glee, "Yeah! Tell me! I won't tell this time."

Sam shook his head, still sitting on the floor of the cramped closet. He reached up and felt for Isaac's hand and gently pulled him down to keel. Sam leaned into his brother and whispered what he'd been up to.

Isaac pulled back in shock. Even at the age of five he knew that something was amiss and that Sam was in gigantic trouble for doing what he did.

Which made it a great secret!

"Don't tell," Sam ordered and produced his hooked pinky.

"Not me," Isaac agreed and hooked his finger in his brother's larger one. And because he's a Stabler and he's devious, Isaac reached for his brother and tickled him. Tickled him with laughter and sunshine and complete innocence.

"Stop!" Sam laughed, "Stop or I'm gonna drag you in here!"

"Not scared of you!" Isaac giggled and blew a raspberry on his brother's neck only to be suddenly surprised and caught off guard when Sam playfully dragged him into the closet and pulled away, shutting the door.

"Ha ha sucker!" Sam laughed, enjoying this playful encounter with his little brother.

But having no idea what was happening on the other side of the door.

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The room, in an instant, had gone black.

Pitch black.

And small.

Isaac felt his small heart beat in his chest. He licked his drying lips and tried to call for his brother but nothing came out of his mouth. He climbed to his knees and felt for the knob, finally finding his voice, "Brother! Let me out!" he demanded.

"No way, Rookie!" Sam laughed, enjoying the fact that he and his brother were playing and never realizing that Isaac might have the same reaction of being in the closet as he did the back of the SUV and being in the shower.

Isaac sniffled, pounded a small fist against the door, "Please, Sammy. It's dark in here."

"I told ya," Sam chuckled, careful of his wrist as he kept his weight against the door, "it's always dark where I come from. You'll get use to it."

"Sammy," Isaac began to cry and he cried softly, not willing to let his big brother know he was scaring him, "I want out, please."

"Um, nope," Sam teased, "no can do."

Isaac sat slowly in the dark, the comfort of his mother's scent from her clothing was confusing, and it wasn't the scent he remembered from his dreams. He swallowed and tried so hard to catch his breath, to find his bearings in the small space.

Small.

Too small.

"Mommy," Isaac sniveled. "I want my mommy, Sammy."

Sam chuckled, "I'm not fallin' for that one again Isaac," Sam laughed, "you got me last time with that, but this time, I got you!"

Isaac pulled his knees up to his chest and started to cry before he started to hear something in the dark of that room. His head bolted up in the dark and he tried everything he could to focus his young mind on the sound.

What was that?

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"Liv?" Elliot walked out of the shower and was making his way towards her, his towel spread out behind him as he started to wrap it around his waist.

She stared at him, momentarily taken back. Five minutes ago, she'd peeked in on him and he had an erection that could have kept them busy for hours and now. Nothing.

And he looked satiated.

She turned around immediately and opened the closet, "I figured you'd want to dress down. Sam will probably wear a tie but you know how he is. The kids are up and everyone is here, except Crystal. I'm sure Sam will flip when he finds out we asked her to come. Really, I just want to strangle her, but I suppose you're right, huh Elliot?" she asked and he could hear the anger ebbing in her diatribe.

"Liv-"

She pulled out slacks and blindly thrust them at him, "I'm not so sure what I have to offer is really an offering at all, you know what I mean?" she asked not pausing for a response before she pulled a blue shirt out and tossed it his way. A belt, and when the hell did he get suspenders?

"Olivia?" he called to her softly and wrapped his arm around her waist, his lips at her ear, "What is it?"

She slipped out of his arms, "Nothing. Why does it have to be something?"

He stood there, in confusion, "You just told me to dress down… then handed me dress clothes that.. don't match."

He was telling her about matching clothes? Her eyes danced between the clothes and him, "So, now that's not good enough for you either?"

He took a step back, "What's going on?"

She looked at him, shook her head and shoved past him, her shoulder colliding with his. He turned and grabbed her elbow, spinning her back, "Liv? Come on, talk to me."

"Look, maybe I'll cut my hair or I-"

His eyes grew in horror, "Your hair? No!"

She pulled her arm from his hold and was just about to give him a piece of what's been festering within her off and on for months when they both stopped, their heads snapping to focus on a sound.

What's that?

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"Mommy!" Isaac shouted, suddenly pounding on the door, "Mommy! Daddy! Daddy, my Daddy! Help me!" he screeched.

Sam suddenly realized that his little brother hadn't been playing along at all. In fact, the little guy had been scared out of his mind and trying like a little warrior to not show it, but something set him off. Something scary.

Sam took his weight off of the door and immediately pulled on the knob, "Isaac, calm down, dude!" he told him, "Calm down."

"Open it brother!"

Sam jerked on the knob only to find the door wouldn't open. He jerked on it again and panicked as his brother banged on the door with both fists, "Mom!" Sam screeched, "Dad! Someone help me!" he yelled.

"Sam?"

Sam was relieved to hear his mother's voice, followed by everyone else in the house. "Mom, it won't open!"

Olivia moved quickly and gave a hard jerk on the door opening it to find her son hyperventilating in the cramped closet. She scooped him up into protective arms as Finn immediately opened the front door, "Get him some air, Liv," he urged and walked with her outside to the porch.

Followed by the rest of her friends.

"Mommy?" Hannah questioned, "Mommy? My broder?"

Olivia heard her daughter and wanted to encourage her gentleness but was busy soothing Isaac, forcing him to take air.

"Liv?" Elliot shuffled through his friends clothed only in boxers, "What's wrong?"

"He's okay," Cragen assured Elliot, "Got a little spooked in the closet."

"Closet?" Elliot furrowed his brow and began to asses his young son, "Rookie?"

"Daddy!" Isaac sobbed and reached for his father who immediately embraced him and walked him back inside, to his room, to hold him and let him know, his father was there for him no matter what.

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"He okay?" Chloe asked and jutted her chin toward Isaac who was holding onto his father's belt as he ran the grill. He wasn't letting go.

Olivia smiled softly, "He's okay."

"I didn't know he was claustrophobic."

Olivia stilled as she sat across from her young friend, her oldest son at her side as her friends gathered in sections, talking and laughing. Hannah and Solomon running freely and periodically stopping to get a hug. "What'd you say?" Olivia asked, her focus being split between Chloe and her five-year-old that stared at nothing as he held onto his father.

Like he was everything.

"Claustrophobic… I mean, he sort of freaked. Isn't that claustrophobia?"

Olivia closed her eyes as realization settled its heavy burden on her shoulders. All of this time, the small space of the time-outs, the cramped section of the SUV. The shower that he pleaded to never have to take. How had it come to be that she'd allowed herself to be so consumed with her own problems that she failed to understand her children's?

She concluded, in that moment, as Isaac wrapped his arm around his father's thigh and leaned close to him that she was a bad mother and that there was no way she'd be able raise Abel to be a man, full of compassionate understanding when her own compassionate understanding couldn't save her little man from scary dreams at night and strangers at the market.

When her ability to be a successful mother couldn't reach the recesses of a small dark place.

That was super scary.

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"Carp," Elliot laughed and motioned for him and Aimee to come to the table, "come on! Meet my son!"

Carp smiled half-heartedly and slowly made his way to Elliot, "Let me see that little guy," he said softly and cradled Abel in his arms, before looking over his shoulder, "Aimee, come here! Bring Soarin!" he grinned down at the young boy.

Elliot nudged his wife, who seemed to put her previous disposition on the back burner for the time being, "He makes people, smile, Liv."

Olivia smiled softly and leaned into Elliot. Carp had looked miserable and the second he cradled Abel in his arms it was as if he'd held within his hands the brightest silver lining that God could bestow on man.

"How's Soarin?" Olivia grinned and held her arms out for the small child.

"He's fussy all the time, until Daddy gets home," Aimee laughed and passed her young son to Olivia, "I think they're pretty close in age, huh?"

Olivia nodded looking between the two infants and smiling, "Abel is a quiet little guy. Not very fussy at all," she smiled and ran her finger along Soarin's chubby cheek. She saved the movement in her mind, the texture of the flesh, the ease with which the child accepted it.

Just as Abel would. The soft texture of his cheek, the purity of his life.

"Daddy!" Solomon grinned and bolted to his father, "Daddy! Mommer in twouble!"

Olivia arched her brow at her youngest son, and gently passed Soarin' back to his mother who was instantly called over by Chloe and Casey.

"You're busted, mom?" Sam asked between mouthfuls of Doritos.

Olivia grinned, "I'm always busted… but what I want to know is why Isaac was in the closet?"

"We were playing," Sam said.

"Okay," Olivia laughed, "but why were you in the closet?"

Sam blushed, "Got to go," he said and tried to squirm away.

"Freeze!" Olivia commanded and tickled him playfully. "Spill it."

Sam exhaled, "I was… on the phone."

Olivia furrowed her brow, "The phone?"

"You went to the closet to use the phone?" Carp asked, clearly amused.

"Carp!" Sam groaned, "You're a man, you're supposed to by on my side!"

"Talking to a girl?" Carp chuckled and Olivia saw the underlining sadness there.

"You okay, Carp?" Olivia asked as he passed Abel back to her. She cradled him gently in her arms as Sam tried to squirm away. "Don't even think about it Mister. You're not off the hook. Not even close. "

Sam groaned, "Mom!"

"Carp?" Olivia encouraged gently, "what's up?"

Carp looked at Sam and then back to Olivia, "Sam," Olivia nudged him softly, "I think if you go inside you'll find out why I'm in trouble… and who were you talking to on the phone?"

"If I tell you, can I just drop the name and go?"

She smiled, "Okay."

"Aunt Alex. Bye," he said and fled as fast as he could before his mother protested.

"Speaking of Alex," Carp smiled and looked around, "where is she? Robert's here and man… he looks like crap. I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Alex had an affair, that's the only thing that causes a man to look like a haggard puppy."

Olivia eyed him, "Carp… Alex wouldn't do that. Besides, Casey grilled him like a prosecutor… he admitted he was the one that was wrong, but… let them be. They'll work it out. What's you're deal? You look like crap just as much as he does," she teased and gently rocked Abel in her arms.

Carp searched the area, locked his gaze on his wife and smiled softly, "She's really amazing, Olivia. She's great."

Olivia smiled, followed Carp's gaze, "Glad you feel that way… what's going on with you Carp?"

He licked his lips, shook his head, "I'm… I'm thinking… about quitting SVU."

"Quitting?" Olivia furrowed her brows and looked up at her friend, "Really? Can I ask why?"

"It's… rough."

"Rough?" Olivia's brow arched high enough to remind her that under her layers of concealer, she had a killer bruise. "Carp… SVU is rough. We all know that, but what's the real reason?"

Carp exhaled found his wife with his gaze once more and exhaled softly, "I want her more than anything in life," he whispered.

"Carp," Olivia leaned in close and gently touched his forearm with her free hand, "I can tell by looking at her that she adores you… you guys having trouble?"

Carp bowed his head, licked his lips and to Olivia's amazement held back his tears, "It's tearing me apart," he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded softly, "This have anything to do with sitting at the hospital every night since that start of your recent case?"

He was only mildly surprised she knew, "You girls and your coffee meetings… us men don't stand a chance."

"As much as we stand during your football Sundays," she chuckled and softened, relived when Casey removed Abel from her tiring arms and brought him into the circle of smiling faces and curious inspection.

"She… looks like Aimee," he confessed. "She looks like her so… I stay there and I pray she makes it, you know?"

"That'll kill you Carp… that woman isn't Aimee… you've got to come home to Aimee, or the job is gonna kill you."

Carp exhaled, wiped at his moist eyes, "Sometimes, I think it already did."

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Sam was pissed.

The moment he'd cut back into the house, running from his mother's questions, the softest scent had caught his nostrils and he immediately knew exactly why Solomon insisted that their mother was in trouble.

She'd been sneaky.

Underhanded even.

Sam's body stiffened the moment he felt the nervous energy hit him in waves. The energy that told him nothing and everything all in one silent moment. He swallowed, flared his nostrils and cursed himself for doing so.

He could smell even better when he did that.

"You gonna say 'hi', asshole?" Crystal smirked from what Sam thought might be the center of the couch, "I mean, you did break my arm." Definitely the couch.

The scent came from the couch.

He bit his bottom lip, took a breath, "I didn't mean to," he said softly and because it was Crystal, and because he has been in love with her since the first day he sat in Mrs. Rosafe's class, his body moved to her voice, her scent and he did exactly what he swore he'd never do with her again, ever.

He sat across from her, on the coffee table, to talk.

"I hate what you did to me, Crystal," he said resolutely. And braced him self for her wrath.

Crystal smirked, scooted forward to the edge of the couch and nudged her knee against his, "You don't hate me, Sammy. You can't."

He backed away, bowed his head.

"Sammy?" Crystal whispered and gently touched his leg with the tips of her hand, gave him a reference to her posture, "Do you really hate me?"

Why was she doing this to him? Wasn't it enough that she'd gotten him in major trouble with his parents? Wasn't it enough that they were suspended for ditching? Man! When did she become such a handful?

Sam fidgeted with the Velcro that secured his brace over his wrist, "No one… like my parents… well, you've never…"

"Sam?"

He pulled his leg back, made sure there was no contact between the two of them. "Why are you even here, Crystal? Huh? Isn't it enough that you've got me doing life? My parent's haven't even told me when I'm up for parole and you're already trying to make more trouble for me!"

"You're mom invited me," she said flatly and leaned back against the couch, "so I came."

Sam was on beyond pissed, "No. No she didn't."

"Yeah, Sam, she did. Deal with it, because I'm pretty sure that at some point during this party, even if you don't forgive me for the subway, you're mother is gonna let me have it, so you may as-"

"My mother wouldn't do that! She wouldn't trap me like that!" he said adamantly and slammed his hand on the coffee table.

"Yes, I would," Olivia interjected softly and lowered her self to sit beside Crystal, a triangle formed between the three.

"Mom! What the-"

"Don't even think about it, Sam," she told him and gently rest her hand on his thigh. "You know I don't like going behind your back, but you and Crystal have been friend's for years, which means both of you need to start acting your age and start trying to work this out, stop being a jerk, for five minutes Sam and start being that little boy I fell in love with."

"Yeah, Sam," Crystal smirked and immediately straightened her body and face when she caught Olivia's glaring eye.

"And you," Olivia started in on Crystal. "You're absolutely right. I expected more from you Crystal. Elliot and I allow you in our home, we trust you and love you like you're our own and yet… you did something like this to Sam?" Olivia furrowed her brows at Crystal and who lowered her head immediately.

Olivia tipped her chin up with her fingertips, "Don't bow your head to me, Crystal. We still love you, but you've certainly disappointed us."

"Yeah, Crystal," Sam quipped.

"Both of you," Olivia corrected him. "You've both got talking to do and you're either gonna decide if your friendship is worth it or not. If it is, you two had better come up with some sort of an apology for one another, because the way you treat each other these days is ridiculous, do you understand me?"

"Yes," they said in weak unison.

And then Crystal broke away from the team and looked at Olivia with genuinely apologetic eyes, "I'm sorry, Olivia."

Olivia took this into consideration, "He's my son, Crystal. And he's a little shy sometimes, and he's a little loud other times, and lately he's been a real jerk-"

"Mom!"

"Sam. Shut it," Olivia told him and touched his leg again, a warning not to keep talking. "You've both let your father and me down, with this nonsense. You're thirteen and you're acting like Solomon and Hannah, now enough is enough. I love you both, and I'm sorry, Crystal that you felt like you had to do what you did to Sam, but no one deserves that Crystal. No one. Not ever."

Sam was gonna interject his thoughts when his mother turned on him, "And you've let me down too, Sam. This is not how we've raised you to respond to someone, no matter what the hurt is. You don't ignore, Sam, and you don't treat people the way you've treated her. Fix it or don't see one another again-"

"But-"

"Those are your options," Olivia said firmly to both of them and stood, "Do it, or stop talking to one another."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Aren't you supposed to be out there, mingling and all of that?" Elliot said softly as he leaned against the door of the office, "I mean, it's a killer bar-b-que."

Chloe jumped in the chair and quickly wiped at her face. "I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay," Elliot smiled gently and furrowed his brows in curiosity of the young girl. He slowly sat in the remaining chair and folded his hands over his abdomen waiting for her to say something. To explain, perhaps why, everyone, including her husband was in the back yard enjoying them selves when Chloe was in this office, obviously hiding the fact that she was crying. "I made this into an office so Liv and I could work together more when we were both at SVU… now she does the gym's paperwork and stuff and sometimes I have a case or two I'm working on."

She sniffled, pulled her short dark hair behind her ear. Her eyes red shot with pain and confusion. She shook her head, swallowed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come," she blurted and stood, walking past him and to the door.

"Why aren't you telling him you're pregnant?" Elliot prodded gently and continued to look straight ahead.

She sobbed right where she was.

Elliot stood, leaned against the desk and assessed the young girl. Scared to death. "I can get Liv if you-"

"How did you know?" She exhaled and hiccupped, struggled for more breath, "how did you know?"

He smirked, reached behind him and grabbed tissue from a small box before handing it to her, "You have the same exact look, Olivia did the day she told me she was pregnant with Isaac… It's the deer caught in the headlight look."

She wiped at her nose and stared forward. Shocked that she was in the predicament she was in.

"Yeah," he chuckled softly, "that's it exactly."

She shook her head, drew in her bottom lip and bit down on it as hard as she could but her tears continued to flow into sobs, "I'm so scared," she admitted finally and while Olivia's emotions had been all over the place today, Elliot couldn't be happier to see his wife appear in the doorway.

"Of what?" she asked compassionately and all three adults gave permission to leave and go with their eyes.

Elliot passed his wife, kissed her gently on the cheek and whispered so delicately she almost missed it, "I owe you a dance."

Olivia chose to ignore it, chose to give Chloe the control here because she desperately needed it, from the looks of it. "You okay?" Olivia asked softly and crammed her hands in her pockets because she didn't know what else to do with them.

"Yeah," she sniffled and shook her head, 'no'.

The corner of Olivia's mouth arched, "So… that was confusing."

Chloe looked at the older woman that, in her eyes, had rescued Mathew and helped her in ways no one could ever know or understand, "I'm so scared, Olivia," she confessed and her face crumbled into pure agony as she wept.

Olivia cupped the young woman's elbow and led her to the seat she was previously in. Olivia sat slowly in the other and reached for more tissue to pass to her friend, "Scared?" she prodded gently and rested her hand on Chloe's knee, "What's going on?"

Chloe bent forward, shaking her head in pure misery, "I'm pregnant."

Olivia smirked to herself, Elliot was gonna look pretty hot in a G-string. "So… I'm guessing you missed a pill somewhere?"

Chloe hiccupped, and looked at Olivia, "Yeah," she admitted softly and broke all over again.

Olivia scooted closer to the edge of her seat and rested her hand on Chloe's damp cheek, "Talk to me… does Donovan know?"

She shook her head against Olivia's palm and tightened her lips to hold in her sobs. "No… I can't tell him. He's gonna be so angry with me."

"Angry?" Olivia smiled tenderly and shook her head, "Why would he be angry with you?"

"We're so young, you know? I'm not done with school and we have Mathew and… Olivia, what if…"

"What if what?" she prodded.

"Yeah," a new voice suddenly sliced though and both women jerked around to see Donovan standing at the door, "What if what?"

Chloe turned in the seat and instantly clammed up.

Deciding that awkward was a laughable understatement, Olivia stood and excused herself.

Donovan crammed his hands into his pockets, assessing his wife, or rather listening to her cry with the back of the chair turned to him, "Honey?"

"Get away, Donovan."

He took a deep breath, pulled up the only available chair and slowly turned her seat to look at her. Her swollen eyes, brimming in red and sadness. He touched her thigh softly, jutted his head to the side of the room and smiled gently, "Um… we can't keep coming to the Stabler's office to fix our problems," he offered a gentle laugh.

"Leave me the hell alone, Donovan," she growled and ran her hand through her hair.

He rested his hand over hers and looked at her gently, "I haven't been able to touch you for awhile, and… this is supposed to be a birthday party for you and you're here crying… Why? Please tell me. Please?" he whispered and let his thumb rub along the flesh of her hand, "Tell me, baby."

Hoarsely, "I can't."

He cupped her face in his hands, "Baby," he pleaded, "please talk to me. You're worrying me so much. I… I'm scared for you, Chloe. Please. I feel like maybe you don't want to be with me anymore, maybe I'm not attractive to you or maybe you've fallen out of love with me and I'm scared Chloe. I'm scared."

She surprised him, pulled him tight up against her, her hand cupping the back of his head, her lips at his neck, his jaw and mouth, before she rested her forehead against his and wept, "I love you so much."

He clenched his jaw, so confused by her hot and cold feelings for him. He tangled his hand in her hair, closed his eyes and enjoyed being this close to her, because she hasn't let him near here, not this close for a very long time.

He took a chance, kissed her gently on the corner of her mouth, "Tell me, Chloe. Please. Are you sick? Are you angry at me for not fixing the door? I can get the hinges and I can do that tod-"

He stopped because she'd suddenly said something so softly his breathing made it too difficult to hear. He could have sworn she said something. Important. "What?"

She swallowed, closed her eyes in defeat and worry, "I said," she sniffled, "I'm pregnant."

He pulled back abruptly and it shocked her.

His grin did.

"Really?" he gasped, slightly shocked, eyes wide. "Are you serious, Chloe? You and me? We're pregnant?"

She shook her head slowly, her tears streaming her face, "I'm so sorry Donovan. I am. I don't know if I missed a pill or we didn't use a condom right when I forgot to fill the prescription or what. I didn't mean for it to-"

He laughed, suddenly stood tall and raised his arms over his head, his fists closed, "Yeah!" he shouted, "Yeah! I'm pregnant! Yeah!" he continued to shout through laughter and suddenly pulled his wife out of the chair, his complete bliss making it almost impossible to notice that she was panicked. "We're so pregnant!" he shrieked in her ear as he held her in arms. A vice grip as he practically jumped up and down like an excited five-year-old being told he could finger paint. "Ha!" he pulled her back and dropped a hard kiss on her forehead.

"Dono-"

"We'll name him Cody," he cut her off with a grin and kissed her mouth again. "No. No wait," his lips closed in on hers once more, "We'll name her Drew or Justine or Camden or-"

"Do-"

"How about a really modern and slick looking nursery, huh?" he beamed and palmed her bottom, "what do you think?"

She licked her lips, shook her head and gently pushed him away, "Donovon… I-"

"Oh. Shit."

She immediately looked back at him, saw his face that was, seconds ago, happy, suddenly pale and white with shock. She watched him slowly lower himself to the chair, a sudden sob escaping from deep within his throat and she couldn't put the pieces together. He sniffled, used the heel of his hands to block the tears, "The baby isn't mine, is it? That's what you're trying to tell me isn't it?"

"What? Oh, no. No," she said softly tipped his chin up to look at her, "No," she smiled weakly, "No. I'm not trying to tell you that the baby isn't yours… I'm-"

"What?" he begged in a hoarse whisper, "What? Please Chloe, I'm so confused right now. Please talk to me," he sniffled and gently pulled her onto his lap, "Please tell me."

She leaned her forehead against his temple, cupped his opposite cheek and cried against him, "I'm scared Donovan."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't want to stop talking to you," Crystal muttered as she picked at the seam of the throw pillow in her lap. Sam kept his head low, vaguely aware that somewhere in the house there was a holler, a happy one, followed by silence, and if he listened really closely, he was sure someone was crying.

Fearful.

"But," Crystal exhaled in dejection and cast the pillow away before standing, "I guess you being silent all the time tells me a lot."

Sam heard her sniffle, had felt the couch cushion return to form as she rose, and smelled her shampoo as she attempted to walk past him. Felt the denim of her jeans as he raised his hand in an effort to stop her. He'd felt the warmth of her forearm the moment his hand made contact with her flesh.

And held on.

"You," he rubbed his thumb over her skin and smirked as the goose bumps formed under his touch, "could… sit with me."

"I've been sitting, Sam… and you just keep… pushing me further and further away."

"Sit down, Crystal. Please?" Sam said softly.

"I think, I'm gonna call and have my mom come get-"

"Sit. Down.," Sam said firmly and pulled her down to sit next to him. "Why are you so stubborn all the time, huh? Why do you have to be like that? Why can't you just do what I ask?"

"Because I have a brain and I use it," Crystal bit back, "Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time, huh? Why do you have to be-"

"I'm sorry!" Sam told her in a hurry and shifted on the couch to face her, "I'm sorry! I am, okay!"

"For what?" she pleaded, "Huh? What is it that you're sorry for Sam, I mean do you even know?"

"I know I almost fell down subway stairs to prove something to you! I know I was completely lost and you don't even care! What kind of friend is that?" he demanded.

She stared at him in shock. Her mouth agape and her eyes wide. She couldn't think of a response to that. She couldn't because, he was exactly right. When she had no snappy comeback, to biting remark to fight him with, Sam panicked and reached out to touch her face, to try and figure out what she was felling.

She pulled back.

"Let me feel," he demanded and stretched his arm further until he touched her.

It was his turn to be surprised.

Sam trailed his fingertip along her cheek, and he became as soft as his friend's flesh, "Don't cry," he whispered. "I wasn't trying to make you cry."

She sniffled, pulled away wiped quickly at her eyes, "You never told me about your new brother, you know?"

"Don't do that Crystal," he said gently and surprised them both by scooting closer to his friend, "don't. Come on; let's get this over and done with so we can still be friends."

"I never thought we wouldn't be, Sam… why do you feel like it's a possibility?" she asked softly. "Why do you think I'll just stop being your friend?"

"I never said that," he muttered.

"You didn't have to… Tell me why you think I'll just stop being your friend," she encouraged and placed her hand on his leg, "Tell me, Sam."

Her touch would kill him. Sooner or later, it would..

He straighten out his leg, placed both feet back on the floor and furrowed his brow, "Maybe you … maybe you just won't like me anymore."

She shook her head in confusion, "Why? I don't understand."

He swallowed, tightened his lips and wondered if he told her everything, if he told her he was scared to be inside of her because his grandfather was inside of him, if she'd get up and walk out of the house and out of his life forever.

"Tell me."

He licked is lips, bit his lower one and wished his mother was here to give him some advice, wished his father was here to tell him what to say. His father had to be good at talking to women if he ended up with his mother, right?

"Sam!" Solomon barreled down the hall and flopped himself over the side of his couch and into his brother's lap, "Sammy!" he giggled and smiled at the young girl on the couch, "Oooh, kissy, kissy."

"Solomon!" Sam scolded," shut your pie hole!"

Solomon smirked and held his brothers cheeks in his pudgy hands, "You getted Abie."

Sam furrowed his brow, "I'm busy."

"I'na see Abie," Solomon whined and Sam, very gently pushed him off of his lap on back to the floor, "then go out back and see him."

Solomon furrowed his brows at his brother and promptly kicked his shin before running off to the back to see his baby brother. And before Sam could gripe about being nailed in the shin by a toddler he felt Crystal's hand over his, "You said you'd show me where you found Moses."

He turned his face to where the warmth of her hand rested and nodded in agreement.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot watched the grin on his wife's face as Hannah sat upon her shoulders, he watched his wife spin, one hand holding Hannah's leg, the other wrapped around to support the little girl's back as they spun around, Hannah's giggles, Olivia's bright face. Elliot exhaled and placed a slice of cheese over a few of the burgers on the grill and reached down to run his hand through Isaac's hair, "You plannin' on socializing or what?"

Isaac sniffled, wiped his nose on his father's slacks and held tightly to his father's leg. Perhaps that was his answer. He wasn't going anywhere. Period.

"Thanks for the snot pattern," Elliot chuckled and looked up just in time to see Carp scoop up Solomon in his arms before he totally plowed over his mother and sister in hopes of stealing some of the attention.

Why his wife was so wishy washy was beyond him but what he did know, was that here, in his back yard surrounded by their closest friends, she was amazing. And as the sun began to set in the far distance, its rays highlighting her already tan skin, she was gorgeous.

"Daddy!" Hannah squeaked from high on her mother's shoulder's, "Daddy, lookit me!" she demanded, and because his little girl has had him tied around her finger since her birth, he looked at her and smiled.

Olivia carefully extracted her daughter from her shoulders and held her close to her body as she watched Elliot with their son. Watched him run his large hand through his hair periodically to let him know he was still okay, that the closet was an accident, that he was safe. And as she watched her husband she was surprised to feel her feet move and the closer she got to him, the broader her smile got.

"Hey," she said almost timidly to him as Hannah squirmed to be let down.

Elliot dug into the plastic bag of buns and held one between them as an offering, "Want me to grill your bun for you?"

"Tell me, hey," she said gently and smashed her hands into her back pockets.

He furrowed his brows at her and tilted his head in curiosity, "Huh?"

"No. Hey. Tell me, hey."

He smirked, "Hey."

She nodded and a softer more relaxed smile graced her features, "Hey… can you grill my bun, please?"

He laughed in confusion, but placed the hamburger bun on the grill and then reached out to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, gently pulling her close, "You okay, Liv?" he asked gently, well aware that their friends would pick up on the slightest argument, and there would be an immediate division amongst the group. Not because their friends didn't care for them both, but because it was the law of nature to do so.

"I love you," she told him, her face hiding in the crook of his neck, "I know I'm running hot and cold and it's got to be confusing you 'cause it's confusing me but… I do love you."

He didn't miss a beat. Rested his palm on the back of her hair and even though his son was still holding onto his leg, he was holding onto her. Holding her and refusing to let go. "And I love you," he whispered and let his lips kiss her hair, "I do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Scared?" Donovan shook his head in confusion, "Why? I mean…. I thought we wanted kids."

Chloe shook her head, sniffled and wiped at her eyes, "I do. I do want kids Donovan."

"Then?" he whispered softly, and cupped her cheek, "why are you afraid? I mean, I'm sure that labor has to be scary but, you have a lot of friends that have done it and I'm sure that Olivia and Elliot would help us with what we should expect-"

"It's not that," she cried and rest her face in the palm of her hands, "it's not."

He licked his lips, furrowed his brows, "I'm lost, Chlo… completely lost. If you were a corpse this would be so easy, but… I don't get it."

She laughed. There, in the midst of her tears, she laughed because only Donovan would compare her to a corpse like it was completely normal. He tilted her chin so she looked at him, "Come on Chlo… what's got you scared?" he asked and gently moved his hand to cup her moist cheek, "Tell me?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled, "We're so young, Donovan… we said we'd wait. We said we'd spend time together as a couple and we'd know each other… I didn't mean to get pregnant."

He grinned, "But I'm so glad we did."

She furrowed her brow and assessed him, took his voice, the timbre of it, into consideration and found that he was being completely honest with her, "You're happy? You're happy that you're gonna be a father before you're twenty-six?"

He continued to grin, his teeth bared for anyone within miles to see, "Yeup! Just means I can still chase him when he's a teenager."

She covered his hand on her face with her own, "Please be honest with me, Donovan."

He pursed his lips, dropped his hand to her thigh and nodded, "I'll get a poly done."

That got another laugh out of her, followed by a swat on his arm, "Shut up! This is serious!"

He moved closer to her, kissed her cheek, "And you know I'm incapable of serious," he whispered and kissed her again, "I want you Chloe. I do. And I've wanted to have a baby with you since the second I saw you… we're pregnant, I'm happy about it. You've got to trust that."

She swallowed, pulled back to look at him, "Donovan… you're… you're the only…" she shook her head unable to confess what she wanted to.

"I'm the only one?" he smiled, "The only debonair man you've known?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Arrogant."

"'Cause I got you… come on Chlo… tell me what you wanted to say, I'm the only what?"

She looked down at her lap, picked at her fingernails, "You're the only man… whose… whose… you're the only man…"

He had to strain to hear her last part, so much in fact that he couldn't make out her mumble, "What?"

She groaned, "You're the only man whose loved me! There! Happy? I said it!"

He grinned all lopsided and funny like, "I'm no fool. I see a sexy lady and I fall in love."

She remained quiet, still picked at her nails.

"My love… makes you not want to be pregnant? I've made a full circle back to dumb."

"Will you still love me, will I still be your priority with a baby in the house?" she asked weakly.

And the bastard grinned at her.

"Oh, you know what?" she snapped, "shut up!"

He laughed, cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her hard and fast on her lips, "You bet that gorgeous butt of yours you'll still be my priority. I've got Matthew and you're still my priority!"

"Isn't Mathew different?" she asked timidly, "I mean… he's not our son-"

"Bull crap he's not!" he snapped, suddenly very staid. "He might be your brother, but he's mine just as must as he's yours and he might not call me dad," his voice abruptly broke, "but… but I… sometimes," he stumbled, "sometimes I wish he could," he swallowed and stared at his wife, before gently touching her abdomen. "You know?"

She covered his hand with both of hers bowed her head to see his hand caressing her belly, "You want a baby? With me? Right now?"

"I do."

"You're not scared?"

"Nope," he told her and really, he wasn't.

She nodded and looked up at him, "You can't forget about me when she comes Donovan."

"She?" his brows arched, "really?"

"I don't know," she whispered, "But… you can't forget about me."

"Isn't it supposed to be the guy that gets all worried about that? Being forgotten, I mean."

"Don't forget me Donovan," she shook her head, "Don't. My father did. You're the only man I've let love me… please don't forget me."

He leaned forward, delicately grazed his lips across hers, "Couldn't do it if I tried."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I think we should stay in the front yard or go to the back yard," Sam said nervously as he stopped on the steps of their porch.

Crystal turned around, walked up one step to meet his height, "Let's go for a walk, Sam. You said you'd show me where you found Moses… I want to see."

Sam swallowed, "I'm not going into the trees with you Crystal… not after what you did to me in the subway… I can't find my way home from the trees without the dogs or someone else."

"Sam-"

"I don't… trust you to lead me anymore, Crystal. I'm sorry."

She hadn't been expecting that. And if he could see, he would see the complete annihilation on her face.

She shook her head, licked her lips and folded her arms over her chest, "You shouldn't trust me, Sam… I did a really bad thing to you in the subway. It was mean-"

"Cold blooded, you mean."

She took in a quick breath, "There's no saint before your name, you know?"

He shook his head and growled in frustration, "Lookit! We're already fighting! This is stupid!"

She ignored his outburst. Stretched out her hand, "Reach out and take me hand."

"No."

"Do it."

"I don't trust you."

"Then let me prove that you can… take my hand."

"No."

Frustrated, she took his hand and forced him to cup her elbow, "You take my damn hand and you let me show you that I'm still your friend. I messed up once with you Sam… consider it pay back for the hospital, now walk."

He was momentarily comatose before a chuckle snuck out, "You. Are. Cold."

She smirked, "You're a jerk."

"Thought I was an ass?"

"One and the same," she teased and grew softer, "Please, Sam… walk with me? Let me show you?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly and allowed her to lead him, without a cane or a dog or anything that would allow him to return home without a great deal of labor. "When we get to the road you got to go right."

She grinned as a cool breeze lifted her hair and his hand gave her a gentle squeeze on her elbow, "I promise I won't loose you."

"Yeah, well… don't kill me either."

She laughed and purposefully got closer to him. Closer to the reassurance and safety that he has always offered her and she has been often too stubborn to accept. Then again, he hasn't been the rosiest person either.

But as they walked, they talked of nothing and everything, neither exactly saying 'sorry', perhaps because it's already been said, so much that it lost it's value, but as they walked, that fact that he was trusting her to guide him, and the fact that she had accepted an invitation to come at all, had to mean something, didn't it?

"Abel is pretty cute," she said softly as a few scattered fall leaves blew across their path, "Do you like having another baby in the house?"

"He's okay," Sam nodded. "When we get to a sign it's like twenty feet off the path."

"Just okay?" she questioned, "You were all crazy about Hannah and Solomon, is Abel different?"

"Yeah."

She stopped. Shocked. She wasn't expecting that either.

He knew exactly how she'd taken it, "It doesn't mean I don't like him, or think he's a part of the family… I just… there's a story that comes with him, you know?"

"Well," she exhaled and gently led him off of the path once they'd come to the sign, "careful," she warned, "you need to step over this branch right in front of you."

He gripped her so much tighter than he ever had before, not because of the branch, but because he really was learning to trust her all over again when it came to leading him. He was cautious but in a matter of several seconds, he'd cleared the obstacle.

With her help.

"Thank you," he said softly and was aware that she'd slowed her pace for him in the new terrain that was not a well trodden path. "I don't remember there being so much stuff here, last time."

"It was awhile ago," she said, finding comfort in talking about the obvious because at least he was talking to her. When she knew she didn't deserve to be talked to at all. Not after what she'd done to him.

"Tell me about Abel," she asked and continued to lead him.

"He's a baby. New. My mom and dad adopted him."

She smirked, "Let me guess… you don't trust me with anything else either huh?"

"What?" he stopped and immediately faced her, "That's not true."

"Then why so secretive?"

He exhaled, shook his head, "Is there some place we could sit around here? Is there grass we could sit on or a log or something?"

She scanned the area and gently led him to a small place free of branches and leaves, "We can sit here. Little patch of grass, butts will probably get wet though."

He chuckled, "Wet butts aren't the end of the world, just don't get your cast wet,"

She nodded and they both sat together, in the open air, surrounded by silence, "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you please… forgive me?"

"Depends. You plannin' on leavin' me out here? 'Cause I didn't count the paces."

She leaned into him, nudged his shoulder with hers, "Just tell me you forgive me, please?"

"I forgive you… for leaving me, a handicapped individual in the subway to fend for himself," he tried to pull off serious but his smile escaped him.

She elbowed him playfully, "Jerk."

"Leaver of blind boys."

She shook her head and exhaled, "I'm sorry… about the cops, Sam. I saw what they did."

His instant reaction was to clench his eyes tight, the memory of pepper spray stinging already. He held them closed, opened them slowly and when there was no biting pain assured her, "It's okay. My uncle Mac chewed him up pretty good."

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Why won't you tell me why you ran away?"

"I thought we talked about it," he said, suddenly more nervous than he'd been for this whole encounter.

"Sam… I've never kissed another boy."

He bowed his head, licked his lips, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have don-"

"I like it. I told you I liked it… I just don't know why you ran."

"Well," he swallowed and thumbed his brow, "maybe, maybe I haven't kissed a lot of girls, you know?"

"A lot… or any?" she teased already knowing the answer.

He blushed a hot red and smiled, "Crystal."

"Just curious."

"You," he admitted, "just you."

She shook her head, drew her knees up to her chest as the sun continued to set and the temperature began to cool, "You know… I've been honest with you, but you won't be honest with me."

"I don't want to be inside of you," he blurted and shocked himself.

She blinked, tried to wrap her mind around his confession and smiled softly, "Sam… we talked about that, come on… I'm not ready for that. I just… I thought, well, I thought you liked the kiss. It seemed like you did before you turned into an Olympic sprinter on me."

He shook his head, "That's not funny."

"Tell me why you ran."

"I don't want to talk about it Crystal."

"Sam… tell me."

"No."

Fed up, with his silence, she snapped, "Just 'cause you're adopted doesn't give you all the rights to be afraid of someone caring about you, so please just do us all a great big favor and quit it!"

It took him a second but it dawned on him, "I… I never told you I was adopted. How-how did you know that?"

"Sam-"

"How did you know that?"

"Sam," she shook her head and exhaled. She figured in this moment, she'd probably just flushed their friendship down the drain anyhow so why not be completely honest with him, "I… know what your real family did to you, Sam."

In an instant he was back on his feet, "Go to hell! You don't know anything about me!" he shouted and turned to leave, surprised when she pulled him back to her, "Let me go!"

"No!" she shouted and pulled at him with her good hand, "no! I thought you were trying to tell me, Sam!"

He furrowed his brows, tried to hold back tears, "No. No!" he shook his head, "NO! I didn't ever want to tell you!"

"SAM!" she shouted, suddenly scared of what she'd just done, "Listen to me!"

"NO!" he hollered and began to walk away, frantically feeling out in front of him with his hands as he took the most cautious of steps.

"Sam! You had me read articles to you about your parents! Didn't you think you would be in those?"

"SHUT UP!"

"SAM!" she screeched to get his attention, "Don't you get it? You told me without telling me, and I never said a word! I never stopped being your friend!"

He stilled instantly. His back to her voice as he wiped at his falling tears, "Leave."

"No," she shook her head, "No. I made a promise to get you back home. I'll do that, but if you never speak to me again," she said softly and gently brought his hand to her elbow, "it'll be you throwing our friendship away, Sam. Not me. I've been your friend though all of this… and I knew before you kissed me… that's got to be worth something."

He stopped, took her speech into consideration and sniffled, "You've known all this time?"

"Did you not know what would be in those articles?"

"I didn't know they existed until you read them to me… why didn't you read it all?"

"Sam, you're flipping your lid right now… I'm not sure what you'd of done then… I thought you were trying to tell me, but then it dawned on me that you had no idea about the articles, so you'd have no idea to use them to tell me."

He swallowed, shook his head, "How much do you know?"

"Just what I read… you were adopted by your mom and dad after they lost Isaac."

"That's all you know? That I was up for adoption?"

She swallowed, "I know enough to know that every time you swim laps with me… you've got to have a second of fear before you get on the platform."

He tightened his lips in an effort to not cry.

"I know enough to know that the scars you have on your back weren't from a bicycle accident-"

"How do you know, huh?" he snapped in defense, "Huh? What makes you all knowing?"

"You don't have a bike, Sam… you never learned how to ride, because you can't see and you're scared of falling off… don't forget I know you Sam… I know you, because we've been friends for a really long time… stop keeping me away and start accepting the fact that I like you and I want to be your girlfriend and your past doesn't bother me, we've all got a past Sam, that's what gives us our story, you know?"

"I can't be inside of you," he shook his head and wrenched his arm away from her hand, "I can't!" he hollered and walked away, back to where he knew that patch of grass was.

In a manner of a minute she was already sitting next to him. "Samuel, you better listen to me," she said and the softness of her voice surprised him, "you're my best friend. You are. And I don't know everything that happened when you lived with your real family, but the way you acted when you kissed me… I'm smart enough to put two and two together and maybe one day you'll trust me enough to tell me everything, but… will you trust me enough, right now, to do one thing and if you still feel the same way, if you're still freaked out and if you still hate me, then… I'll take you home and you never have to hear me again."

He played with grass under his fingers and after a few moments turned to her voice, "What? What do you need me to trust you to do?"

Slowly, she cupped his cheek in her juvenile hand and as much as he wanted to pull away from her, he remembered what it was like to feel that caress. He stayed still and suddenly felt her lips on his opposite cheek, smelled the scent of something as mundane as her chap stick and before he knew what to do, he'd turned his lips and pressed them gently against hers.

He felt her tongue tickle the seam of his lips and he didn't know if he could handle what else was coming. It dawned on him that he wasn't breathing. Not with her lips against his. Her tongue touching his lips.

Holly mole!

He opened his mouth to take in oxygen and instead got her tongue. He didn't care. He'd do without the oxygen. It was trivial in the grand scheme of things anyway. It was only slightly less sloppy then their first kiss and maybe that was supposed to be expected from two thirteen year olds.

But his tightening crotch was gonna get him into trouble again.

He pulled back instantly.

"What?" she shook her head, "What? I can tell you liked that, Sam. You can't kiss me and then just stop being my friend."

He shook his head, squirmed where he sat, groaned when his pants continued to tighten. She really needed to stop talking to him about kissing. And then it happened. She'd touched him.

On his crotch.

"Samuel," she swallowed and he could hear the nervousness in her voice. That or it was his own pulse pounding in his head, whatever it was, she kept talking. "I might be new to this, just like you…"

He was gonna go into cardiac arrest.

He was stuck somewhere between freaking out, because the reality was that for a brief moment, her hand over him had felt exactly like his grandfathers hand when he came into his room at night and touched him; and wanting to stay there, under her touch, because in spite of the terror in evoked in him, it provoked a whole lot of curiosity, too.

"But," she had still been talking, and there he was like a wart on a pickle, his legs stretched out in front of him, his weight held on his palms just behind him, his chest rising and falling far too fast for his comfort, "I think," her voice brought him back to the conversation again, "that if you're like this… it means you like what I was doing."

He swallowed, panted, "Crystal… we shouldn't. I don't think we're supposed to do this."

She pulled her hand away and he heard the rustle of fabric and then her hand on his, "Don't be scared," she assured him and gently placed his hand over her small breasts. He felt its shape and memorized it without trying to before suddenly pulling away.

"Crystal!" he shook his head, "No! No, you can't do that to yourself," he told her as he frantically searched for her shirt and thrust it to her, "put it back on! You're better than that! Put your shirt on! You can't have me do that! We're not even married!"

Persistent, she grabbed his hand again and forced it back to her clothed breast. He fought her, but the reality was there were only two good hands between the both of them.

"Crystal!"

"I want you to touch me," she told him, "I'm not afraid, Sam… I'm curious and I trust you that you won't go any further, but Sam… most boys-"

He snatched his hand from her body, "I'm not most boys! I'm a man, and men don't do this to women they love! Put your shirt on!"

She smiled, slipped her shirt on as if she hadn't just freaked him out. She straightened it over her torso, "So… you agree that you love me, huh?"

His mouth dropped, "I-"

"You just said it."

"Crystal… you're nuts."

"Not really… but I know you Sam, and you're running from something and I just… wish you'd run my way, you know? I like you… more than a friend."

The palm of his hand was on fire and if he had to tell the truth, he wanted to touch her again. Right now. He wanted to touch her and kiss her and maybe let her touch him that way again.

"I," he stalled and stammered before getting it all out, "like you too… like that… like more than a friend. Like, maybe I want you to be my girlfriend, but –"

"But what?"

"But," he swallowed and shook his head, "I can't kiss you and touch you. I'm not ready for stuff like that Crystal."

She tilted her head, "So… you want to be my boyfriend, but not to kiss me or touch me?"

"Yeah, just like hug you and hold your hand. Walk you to class," he nodded as if it all made since.

And because she knew him. And trusted him, she smiled, kissed his cheek, "Okay, deal. Boyfriend and girlfriend without the kissing."

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"Where is the birthday girl?" Elliot shouted from the picnic table, "I slaved all night long making this birthday cake!" he laughed and yelled up to the house, "Chloe! Get your butt down here and celebrate!"

"Slaved all night huh?" Casey scoffed, "I suppose you made the Costco box from recyclable paper too, huh?"

"Thanks for raining on the parade," Elliot playfully narrowed his eyes at her. "Quit hoggin' my son," he told her and motioned to Abel in her arms, "Give him here."

"Not on your life," Casey grinned and turned from his grasp.

Elliot rolled his eyes and looked for his wife, finding her literally tossing Solomon to Mac, who in turn was tossing him back. His uncontrollable laughter as the wind lifted his hair and his body flew through the air only to be caught in the strong arms of his uncle and then flying back to the safety of his mother.

Who, for almost the entire event has remained away from Abel.

He exhaled, shoved another candle deeper into the cake then necessary, as if doing so, could also shove all of his confusion and frustration into the frosting to be consumed by others. "CHLOE!" he bellowed and began to light the candles, "Get your gluteus maximus out here!"

"Yell a little louder old man!" Donovan laughed from the deck, his arms wrapped around his wife's torso.

"Bloody took you long enough!" Elliot laughed, "then again, I need a few minutes to light this insane amount of candles."

"El!" Olivia scolded, Solomon still giggling in her arms and begging her 'again, Mommer!'.

"What?" Elliot grinned devilishly, "I speak only truths."

"That vanilla cake?" Chloe asked with a smile and hoped that only Elliot and Olivia would catch the fact that she'd been crying for way too long.

"Oh yeah," Olivia yelled up to the deck, "but if you don't get down here and celebrate we're eating it all!"

Elliot watched them walk down the steps, his arms still around her waist as he walked behind her, "Think they worked it out, Liv?"

Olivia looked at them as Captain Cragen gladly accepted a fussy Solomon who wanted to fly some more, "Looks like it."

"WAIT!" Sam's voice suddenly cut them all off, "Don't sing happy birthday yet! I'm here! I'm here!"

The group laughed as Sam took the stairs as fast as he could, Crystal hot on his trails, "Liv?" Elliot muttered to his wife who was equally as shocked.

"Yeah?" she responded as she stared at the very thing that had took them both by surprise.

"He holding her hand?"

"Tight."

"Oh no."

She licked her lips, "You don't think they'd be doing the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, do you?"

He leaned back to her, "You told them to fix it."

"I didn't say kiss it and make it better," she groaned and watched as Sam finally made his way to the picnic table.

A smiling Crystal next to him, "Did I miss it?" Sam asked anxiously, "Did I?"

"No," Robert laughed and ran his hand through his hair before leaning in, "You and Crystal fixed?"

"Yeah," Sam grinned and shook his head, "and you and Aunt Alex'll be fixed tonight, too."

Robert's smile fell and he nodded softly, "Yeah."

"Alright!" Mac bellowed amongst the crowd, "There's only so much wax on the candles, let's do this!"

"Well," Cragen cleared his throat and jutted his chin toward Sam, "I think Sam has been practicing something for you, Chloe."

Chloe smiled, and she needed the smile, "Really?"

Sam smirked, "Maybe."

"Hit it, Sam," Elliot encouraged and to everyone's happy surprise he'd sung in front of the crowd in his perfect falsetto voice, as if there were no one there. His voice was pure, something Robert needed to hear, even if it was directed to Chloe. He was confident, something Donovan needed to hear, and his voice was steady, something Carp needed to experience.

The group was quiet as Sam sang something as routine as Happy Birthday, but maybe it was because the group understood where Sam had come from. Maybe the group remembered the reluctance and the strife that the desire to sing brought between Sam and Elliot.

"Wow," Olivia leaned into Elliot's shoulder, "he's gotten so good."

Elliot grinned, "I get to listen to him all the time while he practices… he's better and better every week, ya know?"

Olivia grinned, rested her cheek on Elliot's shoulder and watched her son wind down the simple tune. He'd come to a very soft ending and before the group could erupt in applause and Chloe could blow out her candles Isaac's much more… off-tune voice cut in.

"You live in a zoo!" he half sang and half shouted and caused the group to erupt into boisterous laughter.

Chloe held her hair, bent low to the table to blow out the candles, "Make a good wish, Chloe," Sam reminded her.

She looked at the candles, saw the purest part of the flames and though about the purity that resided in her womb.

_I wish… I'll be a good mother. _

She took a breath and blew.

The crowd laughed and cheered even as Donovan pulled her against him and kissed her, his hand in her hair, her hands on his hips.

"Cake!" Isaac shouted with a plastic fork in his hand and immediately went after the whole of the cake.

"Whoa," Finn intercepted him and pulled him up into his arms, "that sad little face all this time and look at you, ready to pounce on a cake."

Isaac grinned, "I like cake."

"Good to see that smile," Finn nodded and was about to say something more thuggish sounding when Chloe cut them all off.

"Donovan and I have an-"

"We're pregnant!" Donovan shouted, his fist raised in triumph for the second time that evening, "We're so pregnant!"

"Oh great!" Melinda grinned, "Another one of you, how delightful."

Donovan turned to the sound of her voice, "And when did you get here, oh great and grumpy one?"

Melinda held out her arms and embraced him, "You stuck me with two stiffs tonight, I slabbed one and saved the other for you tomorrow… congratulations."

He embraced her warmly, "I get maternity leave."

"Not if you ever want to have another one, you don't," she chuckled and released him to embrace Chloe who already had hands on her flat belly, and a crowd surrounding her.

"Wait! Wait!" Elliot demanded with a smile and called for his oldest boy, "Sam! What's the baby gonna be?"

Sam grinned, "Whatever God wants them to have."

"Ahh!" Elliot smacked his lips, "Of all the times you chose to hold out on us."

Sam laughed felt in front of him as he walked to the sound of his sister's voice to pick her up, "Maybe they don't want to know, dad."

"But I want to know," Elliot said as if that was all that mattered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jacket's had been dawned as the sun declined and the porch lights were turned-on. Finn and Mac left for a case, Cragen cited old age and the inability to stay awake past any respectable hour as his reason for leaving and Melinda couldn't stand the fact that she'd left a stiff for tomorrow.

But even as the group declined in numbers they continued to talk and Sam relished in the fact that the bracelet he'd purchased for Chloe's present made her smile, for even though there was unspeakable laughter within the home, he'd sensed an underline sadness within her… until she'd announced she was gonna have a baby, anyway.

"Can you take him?" Elliot asked Olivia and motioned to the tiny bundle in his arms, "Eight pounds in heavy after awhile."

She missed a beat. Or two. But she'd recovered nicely and held out her arms for Abel who Elliot had swaddled masterfully and rocked gently to sleep. "You look good with him," Aimee smiled as she placed her own son in his car seat, "we've got to get going, if Carp doesn't get some sleep, the guys will kill him at work tomorrow."

"Thought it was your day off?" Olivia smiled at Carp and rocked Abel in her arms, "can't stay up late?"

Carp laughed, pulled his wife close and kissed her cheek, "Maybe I don't have sleep in mind."

"Carp!" Aimee blushed.

Olivia and Elliot whistled simultaneously and Olivia took it a bit farther, "Get out of here you horn dogs!"

Elliot laughed, "I'll walk you out," he informed them just as Hannah trotted past him and attempted to crawl into her mother's lap.

"Hey," Olivia smiled, "I've got a little baby in my arms."

"I'na see," Hannah chuckled and completely ignored the fact that her mother had to readjust Abel to accept Hannah, "Mommy?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"What'a horn doggie?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Have a good night, thanks for coming guys," Elliot smiled and reluctantly let his friends leave. He liked the fact that their friends had come to their home today, many of them sad and broken as they entered, but smiling and joking upon their departure.

And that was what Elliot and Olivia had always wanted their home to be, safe and reassuring, not only for themselves and their children but their friends who, when they were lost, could have a safe landing.

Like Alex.

Elliot closed the door behind Aimee and Carp and walked back to the back yard, stopping almost as soon as he'd turned around when he saw the new picture of Olivia and Hannah he'd snapped, just the other day of his wife dumping a bucket full of autumn leaves over a grinning Hannah.

They looked dead on like one another.

Elliot smiled to himself. Took into consideration many of the pictures on the wall of the foyer, some that Isaac had taken of his mother, those weird angled pictures taken by hands that were not yet developed enough to hold the camera steady… or straight for that matter. Most he'd taken of his children, of his wife, who always seemed to smile, always seemed so sexy no matter what.

If only he could get her to see that.

He ran his hand through his hair, exhaled and turned to gather with his friends again when the door bell rang. He trotted back to the door with a laugh, "Forget somet-" he stopped immediately the second he opened the door.

And stared at her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Still not gonna say what happened, huh?" Casey asked and Paul quickly nudged her.

"Will you leave Robert alone!" he scolded, "Geeze, Case… if he doesn't want to talk about it let him be."

Casey smacked her lips and looked at Olivia, "Your husband isn't here… ask."

Olivia kissed her daughter's head and motioned down to the sleeping infant, "I've got little ears here… they don't need to hear any of this… but on a different note-" Olivia attempted change the subject when she noticed that Robert was anywhere but in the conversation.

"Robert?" Olivia furrowed her brow and looked at her friends as both Casey and Paul joined Robert in a slack jaw stare.

Olivia shook her head, tried to turn around in her chair with two kids in her lap, "Well, what'd I miss-oh," she stopped the moment she saw what led to everyone else's' shock.

"Hey," Elliot called down from the deck, his nervousness evident in his voice even when he tried to clear his throat, "So," he motioned to Alex who stood next to him like a caged animal ready to scamper at the crack of a twig. Elliot turned his pale gaze to Robert then to his wife and produced a nervous sound she couldn't place before swallowing and jutting his head back to Alex, "look who I found."

Alex shook her head in confusion, "Is this some kind of joke? Have Sam call so I'll come and what? You and Olivia will play match maker doctor?"

"Al," Robert stood slowly and extended his arm to join them, "please? Sit with me?"

Alex narrowed her blue eyes in what she hoped would pass for fury but knew her friends would see as something more, "Go to hell, Robert."


	18. Replica

**Silver Lining:**

**Chapter 18: Replica**

**Authors Note**: Between school work, work work and random work I think I've type out about a thousand pages of information and sadly none of them were about the story until this weekend, which was my first weekend off for awhile and the first real time I could work on the story. Sorry for such long delays guys. And don't worry. It's only part of the chapter, I wanted to get something up, though for you.

If words could turn a human into nothing, if they could turn Robert into stone and then crumble him into a heap of cement ash, that is what his wife's words would have done to him, there in the back yard of the Stabler's home, the smell of bar-b-que hamburgers still wafting through the air.

She'd told him to go to hell. Shot him down in front of their closest friends and stood on the porch, her fists balled at her sides, jaw clenched. He had no right to ask her to come and sit with him; he had no right to look at her with such compassion and understanding. He had no right to look at her with unconditional love in his eyes.

Not after she'd slept with another man.

He had no right to want her back, because he was Robert Gray, and he was remarkable and somewhere down the line she'd allowed her self to be consumed with far too much.

_Her_ miscarriage. _Her_ pain. It was always about _her_.

Olivia had warned her. So did Casey. At one point or another both of her closest friends had dropped clues and warnings, and Casey, as bold as she has always been, told her point blank that if she continued to make everything about her, her marriage would find its self on shaky ground, just as hers had.

Screw shaky, she felt like she was in the midst of an earthquake and the world was crumbling down on her.

_Her. _

Somewhere down the line she'd forgotten that it was about _them_. She'd forgotten how he sobbed when he learned of the miscarriage. She'd forgotten how it had upset_ him_ when she wanted to try for another baby.

Somewhere in all of her worry and misery, she'd forgotten that it was also _his_ miscarriage and _his_ pain. It was _theirs_. They were supposed to be a team and she had unknowingly benched him.

Or perhaps she did know that she'd benched him and so, she'd carefully constructed the perfect and happy marriage. One of laughter and playful encounters. A marriage devoted to one another.

She was a liar.

She was a liar on so many levels. She lied to him on their wedding day when she swore it would only be him. She lied everyday after her indiscretion when she came home and made love to her husband, hoping he'd never be the wiser. She lied when she told him to go to hell.

She was a liar.

And right now, she was the most prideful liar she knew. She wanted to sit there, next to him. She wanted to sit there and extend her hand to him and hope and pray he'd take it.

She wanted to exhale when he did.

She didn't want him to go to hell she wanted him to take her home. To _their_ home. To the home that smells of him and her son. To the home where he makes love to her against the wall, in the shower, the kitchen, on the sofa, in their bed.

She wanted Elliot and Olivia to stop staring wide-eyed at her and Robert. She wanted them to go inside so that she could go to him and plead for his forgiveness, tell him she wanted to go home if he'd still have her.

The moment he stood from the deck chair and cleared the worry and nerves and hurt from his throat, she wanted to walk down the deck and rest her forehead against the pulse of his throat, wrap her hands around his neck and tell him she was so sorry.

"Alex," his voice was so small, timid, resting precariously on the verge of breaking. "Please, come and sit with us?" he asked her again.

She wanted all of that but couldn't figure out how to speak over the demands of her ego.

She gritted her teeth for a moment. He had no right to want her when she allowed another man to make her come.

"I said," she seethed, "you can go to hell."

Olivia stood, Abel in her arms, "Let's go Hannah-girl," she said and helped the young toddler, whose eyes were falling with sleep and confusion, to her feet.

"I think we'll head out," Casey chimed in and nudged Paul to get up.

"Stay," Alex commanded from the deck. Her eyes boring into her husband. "I was just leaving."

"Aunt Alex! You made it!" Sam chimed in from behind her, having no idea the fury he'd just subjected himself to.

Alex slowly, angrily turned around and sized up the young man who'd called to invite her to the party. The young man that insisted Robert wasn't going to be there and he'd wanted to see her. She'd been tricked. By a teenager.

"How dare you!" she snapped and took a step closer to Sam whose face crumbled into confusion.

"Aunt Alex?" he questioned. "You mad at me?" he asked somewhere between innocence and hurt.

"I am so fu-"

"Hey!" Elliot cut her off. His tone sharp and harsh as he stepped in between her and his son, "Back off, Alex," he clipped out. "We know you're upset with him, but don't even go there. We all love you, but I'm telling you now. Do. Not. Go. There."

"Alex," Olivia called to her as she continued to hold a sleeping Abel and slowly made her way up the deck steps, "come on," she said softly and reached out to rub her friends arm, "sit with Robert, huh?" Olivia encouraged. "We'll go inside."

Casey and Paul thought it best to pass up this part of the evening and slowly made their way up the steps. To them they were going home.

To Olivia, she was soothing a friend.

To Elliot he was protecting his son and not letting Alex overstep her bounds no matter how angry she was.

To Alex, she was being cornered. Block in on all sides. Surrounded.

She backed up, snatched her arm out of Olivia's reach, "You people make me sick," she hissed. "I'm not sitting next to that arrogant sonova-"

"That's enough!" Robert's voice boomed as he made his way to the steps. Something in his steps that couldn't be identified. Anger? Hurt? Casey and Paul vanished and Olivia ushered her children into safety.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Elliot immediately stood between the fighting couple. "Whoa! Robert, go back, man. You're pissed. Just go sit down."

"Stop fighting!" Robert snapped, his focus on his wife. "Stop Alex! I love you, damnit!"

"Go!" Elliot said, moving closer to his friend, "just go chill out before you both do something stupid."

"Too late!" Alex scoffed from the deck, "Isn't Robert? Did you tell them?" she glared, "Did you? Did you sit here with all of our friends and tell them?" she demanded, her countenance like a rabid dog.

The plant on the rail didn't stand a chance.

"Answer me, damn you!" she screeched and picked up the small terracotta pot and launched it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mom," Sam shook his head in confusion as he sat on his bed, his mother having already tucked in Abel, "Mom, Aunt Alex, is so mad at me."

"You deserve it, Sam. You didn't have a right to do what you did."

"But," he ran his hands over his hair in distress. His Aunt has never, with all of the tricks and early morning phone calls he's done, been angry at him. "They can't be fighting. I don't like it when they fight."

"Sweety," Olivia exhaled and bent her body to kiss the crown of his head, "I love you and your aunt loves you. You caught her off guard, that's all. She'll get over it," she assured him. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, huh?"

"I want to talk to her now, though," he insisted.

"Honey," Olivia licked her lips, "do you hear the arguing right now?"

"Yeah," his brows furrowed and he swallowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt her. I was trying to help."

"I know," Olivia smiled gently and cupped his face, "and I love you for wanting to help them out, but I think I need to go help your Dad play interference. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

He exhaled, pulled the blankets back, "Can I get some time shaved off of my eventual grounding if I agree?"

She arched her brows in shock, "Are you serious?" she dead panned and smiled gently. "You're lucky I don't add solitary confinement."

He exhaled, pulled up the comforter to his chest, "Isaac asleep?"

"Dead to the world."

"Will you tell her I'm sorry, Mom? That I love her and just wanted to help?"

Olivia shook her head gently, "I will. Will you keep an ear out for the kids?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

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"You make me sick!" Alex barked and picked up another small plant as Robert tried to run pass Elliot.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Elliot commanded and pushed Robert back, "What the hell are you thinking? You gonna hit her? Geeze, look at yourself!"

"You think I said something!" Robert yelled up to his wife, "Huh? I did! I told them everything, damn you! I told them how-"

"You sorry bastard!" Alex yelled back and held another plant in her hand. She coiled her arm back to throw it.

"HIT ME!" Robert demanded. His voice so foreign to Elliot that Elliot missed a beat. Tried to take this in.

What the hell happened to their friends?

"Robert!" Elliot huffed, trying to keep him back, "stop! You're gonna do something you'll regret!"

Robert pushed to get by. To get past Elliot's massive body and storm the steps to his wife, not to hit her, not to wound her heart or crush her spirit like she'd done to him. He wanted to get past Elliot to yell at her that he'd take her back in a heart beat, he wanted to yell at her to come back home where she belonged. He wanted to yell at her.

Because her ego was talking too loud.

"You can kiss my ass!" Alex responded and went to launch the plant.

Her arm suddenly stopped behind her with another hand.

Olivia had come to the deck just in time to see Alex's lack of judgment. She'd grabbed her wrist, the plant falling to the ground in a loud clatter. Elliot turned around to see the two women struggle. Alex might have had the fury but Olivia had the technique and within seconds had Alex's wrist twisted behind her back, her body pinned and leaning over the rail, "Stop!" Elliot heard her command into Alex's ear.

"Get the hell off of me!" Alex spat.

Olivia found her friend's ear, lowered her lips there as if she were an enraged Sam or frightened Hannah, "Stop this, Alex. Stop. You're gonna do something you can never take back. Stop it now."

Alex struggled to stand and push her friend away. She wanted to push everyone away like she had some sort of newly acquired reactive attachment disorder. She wanted to push them away because she was contaminated by an insurmountable amount of shame that she'd betrayed the man who loved her for all that she was. He loved her unreservedly and she knew it and could no longer let him be with a woman like her.

Filthy.

"Get off of-"

"I have a headache!" Olivia growled into her ear, "I have a headache, my face is killing me, Sam is confused and your husband," Olivia forced her to look at him, and when she did, Olivia softened her voice, "wants you Alex. Whatever he did… whatever has happened, we'll help you guys, but you're not gonna sit her and kill each other, do you understand me?"

Alex's breathing was labored. Her wrist and shoulder hurt but not nearly as much as her heart hurt.

"Please," Robert sniffled, his pleading stare on Olivia, "let her go… she's upset with me… I-I understand-"

"You don't!" Alex screeched and tried to squirm away. Olivia kept her hold and surprised both men by controlling her body by her neck and turning her, pushing her into the house before releasing her.

And being promptly slapped across the cheek.

"What the hell!" Olivia hissed and held her fingertips to her lip before responding in kind.

Alex's head snapped to the side with the force, "Damnit!" she groaned, mimicking Olivia's touch, "That hurt!"

"Do that again, and I swear I'll slap you again. Ask Casey, Alex, I will kick the crap out of you… what's going on? What's gotten into you?" she demanded.

Alex's tears spilled from her eyes as she sniffled and shook her head.

"Al," Olivia whispered and took a step forward, surprised when Alex fell into her and sobbed. She wrapped her arms around her and held her, "Alex, whatever it is… you can work it out. You guys can get past it."

After a small moment, Alex shook her head and stood apart from her friend as she wiped her face with the back of her hand, "No. No we can't," she said sadly and turned to leave.

The door opened and then closed and Olivia furrowed her brows in confusion before rushing to the door and opening it, "Why!" she demanded. "Why can't you?"

Alex stopped but kept her back to her friend, wanting desperately to not tell her with her body language that she wanted him back, that it was all she wanted but couldn't let him give her at his expense, "Because," she turned her head just enough to throw over shoulder, "it's not an option for him. He needs better."

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Elliot knows a thing or two about rage. He knows how it builds within a man and causes his body to tense just before the man pulverizes something. He also knows that when a man is trying to control his rage, he can become frantic. He can become caged in his own world.

Just like Robert was right now.

He growled as he shook his head in misery and scrubbed his hand over his face.

"Rob-"

"She left!" he bellowed in agony and began to frantically pace over the grass, his hands flexing and opening in anger as his eyes bounced around.

Elliot braced himself. Robert was going to blow. "Robert, come on, man. Let's talk about this, I can maybe help you out a little with what ever-" he jumped and was immediately cut off when Robert held his palms to his forehead and let out a growl of sheer agony and in a split second, picked up a chair and launched it through the air at nothing before going to another and yelling like a mad man.

Elliot dodged and shielded himself, content to let the raging man vent and get his frustrations out. Plastic chairs could be replaced. However; when there was nothing more to throw, Robert simply turned around, surveyed his area, took two steps forward and launched his fist into the trunk of a tree.

Elliot ran to him as he did it again and again, yelling and raging and not having an ending in sight, "Stop!" Elliot commanded and pulled him back, his arms under the other man's arm pits, his fingers locking behind Robert's neck, "Stop!" Elliot directed again. His voice firm and direct as he forced Robert to take steps away from the tree. His arms still spread far with Elliot's hold. "Breathe. Deep breaths," Elliot instructed.

Robert took in a deep breath and let out an anguished sob.

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He hates to see his friends upset with one another. He hates to see them angry. He hates to see their marriages suffer. What he knows is that every time he sees a marriage almost fall apart, he remembers when his almost did.

And he wants to make love to his wife. To reassure himself. That she will never leave him. Ever.

Robert has gone. After an hour of rage and tears and still no reason as to why he and Alex are trying to kill one another, but in Robert's rage tonight, in his tears and agony and anger, Elliot has thought he may have already told him, without having to say a word.

As Elliot walked into his bed room to see his wife curled on her side asleep, he knows that he would protect Olivia the same way Robert was protecting Alex if they were in the circumstances he thinks his friends are in.

As he brushed his teeth in preparation slipping into the sheets next to his wife, he smiled when her hands rested on his hips from behind, her lips on the bare skin of his shoulder, "I didn't mean to wake you," he told her, wiping his lips with a cloth.

"I wasn't quite out yet," she confessed and kissed him again. Her mouth parted just slightly.

"Liv-"

"I hate it when they fight, you know? It reminds me-"

"I know," he shook his head, "me too… Alex?"

"Bailed an hour ago," she exhaled and continued to rest her forehead against him. Was it wrong to want to make love to him right now? Would he want to make love to her right now? Would he push her away?

"Robert left. I tried to get him to stay but-"

"It's bad between them right now and I don't think any of us saw it coming… not like this," she whispered.

"I think-"

She pushed on one hip, pulled on the other and turned him around to look at her, "Do you love me?"

His brows shot up, "Wha-what? Of course I do. You know I do," he assured her and cupped her cheek. "Why would you ask that?"

She swallowed and shook her head as she ducked her face. She ran her hand through her hair and turned around, walked away.

"Liv," he said gently, "talk to me baby, you've been on and off all day." _For a long time and it scares me to think… you might not want me._

"Let's just go to sleep… I'm so exhausted. The bar-b-que was really great, El. Thank you," she said and curled under the comforter. He couldn't figure it out, her words weren't biting or angry. He certainly wasn't expecting a pot to come flying through the air, but… he didn't get it.

"Olivia," his voice was so soft. It always was when it was directed at her, in their bed. She slammed her eyes shut, her body confusing her by pooling instantly. She wants to climb over him and let him know that there is no way his hand will ever be as good as her, but it is so exhausting to be coiled and never snap. What if she doesn't come? What if.

"Olivia," his large hand splayed over her abdomen and pulled her gently to lye on her back. He saw the well of tears in her eyes, "What is it? Please, tell me."

She sniffled, remembered him in the shower with an erection that she wanted to satisfy, yet he'd let his hand take him into a place where only she should know his heart beat. A place that only she knew the way he barred his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. Only she should know what he looked and felt like when he came, yet he chose, after she'd tried to seduce him, to share those things with four walls, instead of her.

The one that should know.

She took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, "I," she sniffled and closed her eyes, the tears making their way down her temples and into her hair. "I don't know," she lied. "I just… I'm all over the map." _I need to tell you that I can't come. I don't feel you like I use to and it scares me. _

He smiled gently at her and hooked his finger under her chin, pulling her so that she looked at him. His lips brushed against hers in a tenser kiss, his tongue sliding delicately along her bottom lip before sucking softly and letting go, "When you're ready to tell me the truth, Liv. I'll listen to you."

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"Hey Morning Glory," Elliot whispered to his sleepy toddler and grinned when huge brown eyes fluttered open to meet his, "Hi, Hannah."

"Daddy," Hannah grinned sleepily, "it morning time?"

"Yeah, but shhh," he said and gently touched his index to her nose.

"Oh," she whispered and touched her hand to his beard, "'cuase Solo sweepin'?"

Elliot chuckled, leaned low and kissed her cheek, "I want to surprise, Mom."

"My mommy," she giggled softly, "how come Mommy not here to tell me a story in da morning?"

"Well," Elliot whispered with a smile, "I was hoping you'd let your daddy tell you a story, so mommy can rest."

Hannah rubbed her eyes and looked to where her mother always places her clothes for the day. Today, she doesn't see anything and so she's not sure what today is. Is it a play day, where her mommy puts out her clothes with the occasional stain from her chocolate spills and mustard mishaps or is it a day where she wears her best sneakers to head to work with her? Ooooh, maybe it's a day where she get to wear her dress and fall asleep in her mommy's lap as she learns the cool things about God.

"Where my clothes daddy?"

Elliot grinned full and happy, "How about you let me tell you a story and then we'll pick out a dress for today, huh?"

She giggled and crawled into her father's lap, "I get a dress like my mommies a'den we go and I fall to sweep a'den we get ice cream?"

Elliot smiled, "Ice cream is a go," he said softly and stood with her in his arms before sitting in the rocking chair. "But we're gonna let Mommy play hookie today."

"Oh," her face fell.

"She and Able need to spend some time together, huh?"

"Like her and me do?"

"Yeah," Elliot nodded and pulled her tight against him. His nose in her hair and while he knows she smells of baby shampoo, he also thinks her hair smells like his wife's does. "You know something baby girl?"

"You the bestest daddy in the whole widest world. Dat wha' I know," she chuckled against his neck and felt the whiskers of his beard brush against her temple.

"Well, thank you," he rubbed her back and rocked the chair gently. "But, did you also know that… I like to spend time with you just like mommy does? Did you know that I like to hold you just like this?"

She giggled against him and held tighter, wormed her way deeper into her daddy's body, "You gonna tell me a story bout mommy, daddy?"

He laughed quietly and it surprised him that he wanted to cry. He splayed his large hands over her back and sniffled, pulled her back to look at her and gently tucked her hair behind her ear, "I've been waiting a very long time to tell you a story about your mommy in the morning time, Morning Glory."

She leaned back against him and relaxed fully in the strength of her father. "Tell me daddy."

He rocked her slowly and smiled, he's been wanting to do this with her, he's been wanting Hannah to accept him and depend on him in the mornings just as she does her mother. More important that that, he wanted to make it up to her for missing the mark when Olivia was away. For missing the time when his little one wanted her story and he was too consumed with his own misery to hold her.

"When I asked your mommy to marry me… she took a very long time to say yes," he whispered to her softly, "but when she did, I was so happy, Hannah. There was a little shop in SoHo and I brought the lady there a picture of a dress your mother drew and she made it-"

"For she could marry you, huh!" she giggled.

"Yeah," Elliot nodded and adjusted her small bottom in his hand before running his free hand in circles on her back. "That's why, and she was beautiful Hannah, she stood on the beach in this dress and you should have seen her eyes honey and she had a smile and she was nervous and honestly, I almost thought she was going to barf."

"Ewww," she grinned, clearly enjoying the story, "Was her tuumy wiggly, daddy?"

"Hey whole body was!" he laughed, "but… she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."

"Dat why you married her, huh!" she announced and pulled back with a smile of pure glee.

Elliot shook his head softly and cupped her cheek, kissed her gently on the opposite one and smiled against her, "I married your mother because she was the one that made everything balance out."

Her brows furrowed, "Wha'?"

He laughed, "She was perfect. That's why I married her."

She grinned, "Tol'ya!"

"Daddy?" Solomon's groggy voice came from his small bed and before Elliot could acknowledge his son's presence, Hannah blessed him with a tender confession.

"Daddy," she held his face and kissed his furry lips, his whiskers tickling her, "you tell me stories in da night-time and mommy tell me stories in da morning-time, okay?"

His brows shot up in surprise, "I'd like that, Morning Glory."

"Daddy!" Solomon whined and made his grumpy way to his father, "Daddy, I tired."

"Solo," Hannah grinned and wiggled off of her father's lap, "we gonna surprise Mommy!"

"Mommer," he smirked and looked at his sister. He giggled and looked at his father before smiling back at his sister again, "Wha' doin' today?"

"Church, my boy," Elliot grinned and ran his hand through Solomon's hair before kissing him gently. "I want you to use your super quiet voice and go wake up Sam and Isaac, please?"

He grinned, "My mommer?"

"She's sleepin' leave her alone," Elliot cautioned and sent his small body down the hall.

"Okay, honey," Elliot grinned and helped his daughter into his arms. He opened the closet and was suddenly wondering if it would be okay, if it would be acceptable for a father to bring his daughter to church in her pajama's. "What are we wearing today, Morning Glory?"

She smiled and immediately pointed, "Dat one!"

He pursed his lips, raised his brows and exhaled with a smile, "Let's do it, then."

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"Sam!" Elliot whispered loudly, "come, on. We're gonna be late getting Crystal."

"What about Thomas?" Sam asked, helping Solomon clasp his belt.

"Um," Elliot exhaled packing a back pack for the group, "I think… we're gonna let him spend time with his mom."

"'Cause I messed up?" he asked miserably and raised Solomon to the counter top.

"No," Elliot assured him, "you didn't mess up. You have a big heart and you don't want to see people get hurt… But, sometimes when we do things like that… we've got to be prepared that we might be the ones hurting someone, and we might end up getting laid out."

Sam exhaled, felt around the counter-top for the socks and shoes he'd put there and when they didn't immediately touch his fingers, he smiled that his little brother helped him out and handed them to him.

"Isaac?" Sam called and held up the socks, "These the same color, dude?"

Isaac scratched the cheek of his bare bottom as he stood in his black dress socks and 'A' shirt. His button down green shirt open, collar up, "Yeah. They're black."

"Thanks… go put your clothes on."

"I got clothes on," Isaac smirked. It was friendly play between them to tease one another and while Isaac knew his brother couldn't see him, he also knew it was crazy good fun to play tricks on him. To tell him the remote was gone, when it was right next to him. To tell him he was pouring Apple Jacks when it was Cheerios pouring out of the box. It was crazy good fun because his big brother had a since of humor about it.

But no body else had better dare joke with his brother about his sight. Play a trick on his brother that involved his sight and you would suffer Isaac's wrath.

"Yeah, okay, short-stack. Go put'em on. You're gonna make us late."

"Isaac," Elliot warned, "go get clothes on, right now young man. You're sister is right here and you are far too old to being doing this."

"Ah, dad," Isaac groaned, "it was a good joke on Sammy."

"Move it," Elliot told him and gently turned his body and swatted his bottom, "Clothes. Now."

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"Are you sure it's okay to leave Abel with mom?" Sam asked his father as he helped his sister out of SUV and Crystal helped Solomon.

"Sammy!" Isaac screeched from the vehicle, "Sammy my tie!"

"You're mom needs rest," Elliot told Sam and cut Isaac off, bending slowly to tie his tie.

Hannah held tight to her brother's hand watching as people moved quickly into the biggest building she'd ever seen. More bigger than her mommy and daddy's building that they went to everyday.

"Dad," Isaac gasped when Elliot pulled the tie tight, "Too tight! Too tight! Sammy, help!"

Sam shook his head, placed his sister on her feet and smirked as he loosened the sloppy knot, "I know she does… so… leaving her with a baby? Isn't that like, counter-productive or somethin'?" he asked and expertly moved his fingers over the knot to make sure it was correct, "There."

"Thanks Sammy… dad was trying to kill me."

"Me! Me! Now Me!" Solomon squirmed in Crystal's arms for his brother.

Sam laughed and reached into the vehicle, searching with his hands until he found the small clip-on and helped his brother with it.

"Hey!" Solomon frowned, "not fair."

"Deal," Sam said firmly.

Solomon huffed and hid his face in Crystal's neck, "Not fair."

"Ha ha!" Hannah giggled and grabbed her oldest brother's hand.

"That's a one Hannah," Elliot said and moved closer to his son, "Sam… tie this thing for me, will ya?"

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They were sweating as they moved together. He thrust into her body and she whimpered at such a delicious notion. She dug her fingernails into his back, arched her body into his and pleaded for more. She bit at the line of his jaw. He caressed her breast roughly before dropping his hand to the thigh and burring himself deeper inside of his wife.

He made her come, her name falling from his lips onto her ears and her body convulsed. Her voice screamed through the air and her eyes shot open at the sensation. She held on as he continued to thrust and her body shattered as her voice grew louder and louder.

Olivia's eyes fluttered open and she smiled. The juncture of her thighs still throbbing, but as she turned in the bed to thank Elliot for an exhausted middle of the night romp she frowned.

The bed was empty.

And after she blinked out the grogginess and the sleep it dawned on her that the sensation between her thighs was phantom. The results of a dream. Something her mind and body wanted so badly, it went ahead and created it. And the yelling? What was that?"

She blinked again, shook her head and turned, "Hey," she said softly and slipped out of the bed. "Hey, you," she cooed and looked down into the crib. "You're face is all red little man." She exhaled and looked around. "Elliot?" she furrowed her brows, "El? Elliot, can you get him?" she asked and absently placed her hand over his heaving belly. "Elliot!" she called into the room again and looked around for her husband as Abel's cries continued to bite at her ears.

And then her eye caught it. A small note. She moved to the bed, took the scrap of paper off of the pillow and groaned inwardly.

_Liv: _

_Rest. Spend some time alone with him. The kids and I will be back with your dinner. Love you more than you know, El. _

Dinner time? She looked at the alarm clock, back to the screaming baby and absolutely freaked out.

"Samuel!" she yelled and bolted down the hall. She can't handle Abel, on her own. She needs someone in the house with her. Just in the house. "Isaac!" she called and opened the boys' room to find neatly made beds.

She turned back around. He had the boys. No big deal. She'll have the monsters. He couldn't take them all by himself. He wouldn't willingly put himself through that. "Hannah-girl?" she called and stalked back to the other side of the house, Abel's cries growing louder and more labored. "Monster-boy?" she pleaded and opened the room.

She'll kill Elliot.

She swallowed and made her way slowly into her room again. Abel's cries were piercing. She licked her lips and tucked her hair behind her ears before peering down at him, "Hey, hey you're okay," she whispered.

Abel's little body shivered in the cool of the air, his eyes clenched shut in misery as his chest heaved in air to cry louder. She sucked in air, held it. She's held him before. She has and it was okay. She sang him to sleep and it work. She could do it even without the re-assurance of her husband's presence. She could do it without the laughter of her children.

Wait a minute. Abel _is_ her child. Right?

"What's the matter with you, Olivia?" she chided herself and shook her head, cleared her mind and picked up her young son. "Shhh," she whispered and cradled him close. "Hey, you're okay. I got you," she assured him and patted his bottom softly in her hand.

"Looks like Elliot… No. It looks like _your father_ wanted us to spend some time together."

He continued to fuss, though softer, less committed in the wake of Olivia's voice. He placed his small thumb near his lips, moved his hand further up his face and reflexively wiped at his eye.

"Bet you're wet, huh?" she said softly and lowered him to the bed, unbuttoning his onsie and slowly pulling his small legs out.

"Whoa!" she laughed and grimaced, "looks like a little more than wet, huh?" she told him with a chuckle and quickly cleaned and changed him into a fresh pamper and one of Solomon's old outfits.

She looked at him and continued to look. "I've… I've been a mother for awhile now, but… I'll be honest with you, Abel," she shook her head and lifted his tiny body into her arms again, "I don't know what to do with you."

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"Your brothers really dig you, huh?" Crystal smiled softly as they sat on a bench in the park, ice creams in hand.

"I guess so," Sam nodded.

"You're parents still mad at me?" she asked and slowly laced her hand with Sam's.

"No, but this is the longest I've ever waited for my punishment… it's killing me," he admitted.

"Maybe that's part of the punishment," she chuckled and ducked her head. Sitting just a little closer than they normally did. Accepting just a little more of his body heat then normal.

"Where's my father?" Sam asked and gently squeezed her hand.

"He's playing with your brothers and sister… looks like football."

"I think he thinks Hannah is a boy."

"Na, maybe just wishes," she laughed and leaned into him, "I wish you could see her, Sam… how her face gets this smile when she sees you."

He smirked, "I can feel it, you know? She has this energy, like my mom…. I know you hate it when I talk about my mom but-"

"Sam, that's no true," she admitted softly and shook her head before exhaling, "I said some stuff that was pretty mean… I didn't mean it. I really like your mom."

"I love her too… my dad is pretty great too. Can't tie a tie to save his life, but you know." he shrugged and laughed.

Crystal exhaled, "Sam?"

"Hmmm?" he mumbled and licked at his ice cream.

"Do you really believe all that stuff they preach in church?"

He didn't miss a beat, "Yeah, why? Don't you?"

"You know I don't… Why do you keep inviting me?"

He shrugged, "Why do you keep coming?"

"I don't know… maybe I'm trying to figure out how you can believe in it. I mean, you're normally so smart about stuff."

"Ouch," he smiled and licked at his ice cream again.

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, "Thought you'd of crapped your pants on that one."

He took another lick, "What kind of ice cream did you get?"

"Rainbow sherbet," she said and looked down at the melting mass.

"Gimme some," Sam said and offered her his cone in trade. He took a lick, "That's gross give me my cherry back."

She laughed at him, changed up the cones again, "Not gonna answer me, huh?"

He took another lick, cleansed his pallet of the sherbet, "I invite you because I like to spend time with you. I like to spend time with my family and I like to spend time in church… I get all three when you come. I'm a selfish man," he smiled and bit into his cone.

She chuckled, "So, you believe in whales swallowing people?"

"Yep," he nodded simply.

"Serious?"

"That's what I said."

She leaned back on the bench. She's not sure if she believes in all of that stuff, but what she does believe in is forgiveness and love and… them.

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"I'm here to see Vivian… I called about an hour ago," Olivia told the receptionist as she cradled Abel close. "She said she would see me."

"Yeah," the young woman smiled and led her to the office, "she's expecting you… who's this?" she grinned and motioned to the small bundle.

Olivia missed a beat. Again.

The receptionist caught it immediately and bowed out gracefully, "I'm sorry," she dipped her head softly and knocked on the door, told Vivian her client was here.

"Sit your beautiful ass down, Olivia," Vivian chuckled as she sat bent over, placing a file in her desk drawer. When she looked up, she expected to see Olivia and that shy smile she'd always responded to the line with.

She didn't expect to see a woman who looked liked she didn't even know who the hell she was. The deer in the head-light look never did suit her. And what was with the bundle in her arms.

"Olivia?" Vivian's voice was gentle as she stood, guided Olivia to the chair with her arm.

Olivia swallowed, sat slowly, quietly. She was afraid and Vivian hadn't seen her like this is a long, pleasant while.

"What is it?" Vivian asked, sitting slowly next to her. "You look terrible…. I'll have to change my line to 'sit your terrible looking ass down'… Too many words, you know?" she smiled gently.

Olivia looked down in her arms and if the weight of the world were eight pounds, it came crashing into her, "I don't know what to do with him."

"With who?" Vivian encouraged.

"Him," Olivia motioned with her chin to the young baby and cried, "Elliot left me alone with him and he's turning me into a basket case."

Vivian gestured to the small, blue bundle and raised her brows as she peered down at the sleeping baby, "I take it this was the big news Elliot spoke of?"

Olivia furrowed her brow, "Elliot came here?"

"You know I can't talk about it."

Olivia nodded, catalogued the thought and slowly passed the baby to Vivian, who anxiously awaited him.

"Who might this little guy belong to?" Vivian smiled down at him and opened the blanket with one hand as he rested in the other, "He's an ittie-bittie isn't he?"

Olivia almost choked to get the words out, but she did, "H-He's mine. Our's. Mine and Elliot's."

Vivian looked at the young man, then back at Olivia, "Well," she nodded. "Adopting without even bringing it up… that's growth."

Olivia sniffled, wiped at her eyes with her palms, "Not really," she shook her head and sobbed. Hard. Her head resting between her knees. Vivian expertly laid the young boy in a padded oversized chair, content that he wouldn't roll. She returned to sit near Olivia who simply sobbed louder.

"So," Vivian smacked her lips, "I'm guessing a pretty shitty day, huh?"

"He left me," Olivia blubbered, "he just took the kids and left me with him and I can't think straight. The baby cries and I calm him and he grabs my finger and holds on and he," she hiccupped and shook her head, "he rests his face against my neck, like Solomon used to and he's finicky about the temperature of his milk like Hannah and he's in love with Elliot and-"

"So, he's a good kid? You're upset because he's a good kid? Slap me around and call me stupid, because I'm confused."

Olivia sat up, the pain inscribed in her features, her mascara everywhere except her eye lashes as she ran her hands through her hair and dug her elbows into her knees. She looked at the blue blanket and slammed her eyes shut. "We didn't," she shook her head, "we didn't… get him… from an adoption agency."

"Okay… where'd you get him?"

Olivia rocked herself, willed herself not to vomit. "He's not mine, Vivian. He can never be. He's his. He's so much his… what have I done? I took him in and I can't deal with him. Elliot took the kids today… I've been alone with him for a few hours and I'm falling apart. He-he-he, he makes this face like me," she sobbed. "That's what Elliot says, he says he makes this face when the water touches him and he says he looks like me," she cried, shaking her head softly as her tears fell. "He'll never be mine. Never. He's his and I can't love him. I don't know how to."

Vivian assessed the young baby, sleeping feet from his reluctant caregiver, "Who does he belong to?"

Olivia's body doubled over and she sobbed again, "H-he's Oli-Oliver's. He's not mine. He's Oliver's."

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"Happy Meals!" Elliot laughed and handed them out, watching as Solomon and Hannah hurriedly opened their flimsy boxes and laughed once they pulled the toy out discarding the food.

"I gotted a car!" Solomon smiled, "Look-it Daddy!"

"Sammy!" Hannah stood on her seat and reached for him, "Lookit my Barbie!" Sam reached out, touched the small doll and smiled.

"Pretty cool, Sister."

"Dad," Sam exhaled and pursed his lips, "why'd we have to take Crystal home?"

"Her parent's were expecting her for lunch," Elliot told him, "you know that's the Sunday routine."

"I know," he grumbled and absently played with his straw, "doesn't mean I like it."

"You don't like nothin'," Isaac chimed in, struggling with his tie. "You don't. That's why you're grumpy all the time."

"Shut up," Sam chuckled and nudged him playfully.

Elliot laughed and helped Solomon with his cheeseburger, "Here, son," he instructed and grinned as his son took the biggest bite possible and smiled at his sister, who promptly matched him and added a giggle.

"Think mom is okay?" Sam asked.

Elliot exhaled, "She hasn't called, I'm sure she's fine."

Sam smirked.

"What?" Elliot smiled, "what's with the smirk?" he asked popping a fry into his mouth.

Sam took a bite of his burger, "Man, Dad, you are so dead when we get home."

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"Take a breath, Olivia-"

"Don't tell me to take a breath, Vivian!" she hissed and stood to her feet. She needed to get out of there. It had been a stupid thing to go to her, anyway.

"Oli-"

"I've been taking a breath and taking a breath and taking a breath and I still can't breathe!" she snapped and thumbed her brow, immediately feeling the regret, "I'm sorry. I was out of line."

Vivian exhaled, "Sit your beautiful ass down," she said softly and gently lifted the small bundle into her arms as Olivia refused to comply. "Sit it down, Olivia," Vivian instructed more firmly.

Olivia thumbed her brow and angrily sat back down, only to feel her self start to combust when Vivian set next to her again and promptly returned the small life to her shaking hands. "Don't stay angry," Vivian mused, "it pisses babies off."

Olivia shook her head, couldn't stop her body from shaking, her tears from falling, "I don't want him."

"Yes, you do," Vivian assured her softly. "I know you. If you didn't want him, you'd have never taken him… it's okay to be confused. It's okay to wrestle with doubt and confusion, but call it that. Call it doubt and confusion. Don't call it a lack of want-"

"Vivi-"

"What's his name? You bring me this bright and shining face and you neglect to tell me his name."

"You can't lessen this off by making me laugh, Vivian."

"Fine then. Sit there full of piss and vinegar, but I'd still like to know his name."

Olivia chuckled at the balls that the older woman always had. The chuckle was small but it would be considered a laugh at some point, "I hate you sometimes, Vivian."

"You pay your bill on time… that's a contradictory action. Now, will you please tell me his name?"

Olivia licked her lips, cleared her throat, "Abel."

Vivian arched her brow, "That it? You and Elliot aren't known for simple names… lay it on me."

Olivia's mouth twitched at the corners, she peered down at him, surprised that his eyes were opening and closing, trying hard to keep his focus on her when his little body wanted sleep. "Abel Malachi Anan Stabler."

Vivian's eyes grew, "Gets longer and longer, huh?"

Olivia laughed out loud and slowly her body stopped shaking except for the small bounce in her arms to lull the small boy. "His… needed to be just right."

"Because he's Oliver's? Or because he's yours?"

Olivia swallowed, chewed her bottom lip and continued to look down at the young boy, "I don't know, Vivian. I honestly don't know."

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"Paul?" Casey exhaled over her menu before closing it and looking at him.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied lightly, but his face grew serious at the worry on his wife's, "Case?"

"Do you think Alex and Robert are okay? Alex didn't return my call."

"Case… please, I know you care about her. I do too, but Elliot picked up Addison for us, so that we could have some time to ourselves… I want to take advantage of that and just be with you."

Casey nodded, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he smiled and reached to cover her hand, "they'll be okay."

She turned her hand over and tapped his palm as it covered hers, "Paul?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'm strong enough now?" she asked and her finger stopped tapping, it rested at the center of his palm as if somehow trying to steady itself to feel his pulse even though her finger wasn't even close to the pulse point.

"For what?" he asked cautiously.

"To be there for Alex… to help her along with whatever this is."

Paul nodded, a pure smile gracing his lips, "I believe you are, yes. And, if you aren't enough, if she needs more, you know that Olivia will be there right?"

Casey bit on her bottom lip.

"Case? You know she wont leave Alex hanging."

"I think she's just as lost as Alex right now," Casey confessed softly.

"What do you mean?" he asked and paused the conversation as the waiter came and they placed their order. He resumed just as soon as the interruption left, "Casey?"

"I think Olivia is struggling with Abel. I think she's trying to show us she can do it, but she's getting ready to loose it… I don't know if I can be enough for both of them. I'm scared, Paul."

"Casey-"

She shook her head, tried to keep her tears hidden but knew her quivering chin was gonna give her away, "I don't want to go back to the hospital because I lost my ground again. Promise me, Paul. Promise me you won't let me go back."

He shook his head, "I can't promise you that, baby. If you're sick… I want you better, but I can promise you something else."

She sniffled, "What?"

He squeezed her hand gently and smiled softly, "I can promise you that I won't let you get in over your head… I won't let you loose your ground again."

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"What is it about him, Olivia that terrifies you?" Vivian asked, the young boy now back in her arms as Olivia wondered around the office, finding her place in front of the book shelves again.

"Your books are messed up again."

Vivian smiled, "It's the only way I can get to the truth with you, so… I mess'em up before you get here."

Olivia smirked, pulled a book out and placed it in it's proper space, "I worry, you know?"

"About what?" the older woman inquired.

"That… Abel will hurt Hannah."

"You said the same thing about Solomon… has that happened?"

"No," Olivia shook her head filed another book away.

"Then?"

"It's different… what if he grows up and he hurts someone?"

"What if he grows up and helps someone?"

Olivia leaned forward, her hand on the spine of a book, she rested her forehead against her wrists and shook her head, "I can't have him in my house, Vivian. I can't risk my children."

Vivian smiled down at the young boy, her client was over reacting and she'd let her, if only to talk her full circle and help her shed some light, "What I hear you saying is that you believe your children are in danger because you have opened your door to the son of a rapist?"

She sniffled, "Yes. That's what I'm saying."

"Well, surely you can see the black on that shit, right?"

Olivia was caught off guard, "What?" she fumbled with the book and turned around. "What?"

"Where your children in danger when Isaac was born?" Vivian asked softly, her knuckle trailing the young boy's cheek.

Olivia frowned, "No."

"What about five years ago? When you took in Sam? Were they in danger then?"

"We lost Isaac!" Olivia ground, her anger and frustration with the questions flaring.

"I know that, but that's not what I asked. I asked you if Sam was in danger in your home from someone in your home?"

"N-no."

"Solomon or Hannah?"

"No," she shook her head.

"I disagree," Vivian said simply.

Olivia's nostrils flared, "I wouldn't hurt my children!" she yelled, so violently she could see Abel jumped in Vivian's arms. To the woman's credit, she simply readjusted him over her shoulder and soothed him immediately.

"Hey," Vivian peered over her glasses, "I was just going off of your theory."

Olivia furrowed her brows, "You've lost your mind."

"Maybe." Vivian agreed, "But, you said that your children were in danger because you'd allowed the son of a rapist into your home. You are the daughter of a rapist a product in fact, and Sam is the son of a rapist, so… according to you, the very fact that you are in the home with them, that Sam is there… puts your children at great risk, does it not?"

Olivia closed her eyes. Realization set heavy on her face. She turned back to face the shelf, "Sam wouldn't hurt them. I wouldn't."

"Then why can't you bestow that same assumption to this baby, Olivia?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

"I can't believe you pay me to lie to me."

She spun on her heels before she could stop herself, "Go to hell, Vivian!"

Vivian chuckled, pulled Abel back to look at him, "She's raring to go now, kido."

"Give him to me, I'm going," Olivia announced.

Vivian stood and passed the baby to Olivia. He fussed immediately.

"If you'd sit your beautiful ass down and calm down… he would too," she said softly and simply sat and let Olivia decide.

Abel's fussing grew into screeching within seconds, "Please be quiet," Olivia told him. "Please? I can't take you screaming like this."

Abel screeched harder, his arms stretched out and shaking as his face reddened. She looked at Vivian who simply waved her to sit. She did so, slowly.

"He's a little boy," Vivian whispered and reached to rub the center of her client's shoulders. "He's scared because you're scar-"

"I'm not scared!" she protested as her tears gathered again.

"Yes. You are scared, Olivia and that's okay… you're scared because one day you'll look at Abel and you'll see Oliver. It's not that he'll hurt someone or hurt the kids. It's not because he fusses or cries… you're scared of him because you won't let go of what Oliver did to you."

Olivia swallowed a sob, "I have… every right to be angry."

"I agree. You do. But not at the child in your arms."

Olivia sniffled, "What if… one day, I look at him and I see… the things that Oliver did? I mean… my boys, even Hannah… they're aware that my body has scars, you know?" She took in a labored breath, "They see it when we swim… what if he asks me about it? What am I supposed to say? That his father raped me and cut me?"

Vivian leaned back, "Life is complicated."

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Come on Vivian, is that all you've got for me?"

The woman smiled softly, "It's complicated and it's messy and sometimes it sucks ass, but… it's also pretty beautiful."

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Elliot has had some brilliant thoughts in his lifetime. A lot of them to do with cases, however; bringing five children to a movie theater… not one of his most brilliant ones, although he loves every minute of it. He does, occasionally have to remind Hannah to stay in her seat, that she can't get up and yell, "Holy Cow!" every time there's a good part on the screen.

And he loves, absolutely loves that it is Isaac who is trying to narrate the movie for Sam, that he's trying to make sure his brother understands why people are laughing. In some ways, Isaac is already further along in his understanding of his brother's disability than most people twice his age, three times even.

He'd just sat Hannah down again when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out after a few moments of squirming in the dark and moving kids around. "What happened Uncle Elliot?" Addison asked.

"Nothin'," Elliot whispered and held his finger to his nose before flipping the phone open to read that he'd missed the call. Before he could flip through the call log to see who'd called, the phone vibrated in his hand. An incoming text.

El- Whr r u? I ned u. Liv.

Elliot furrowed his brow and leaned into his oldest son, "Keep an ear out for the tribe, I have to call your mom."

"So dead."

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Olivia clipped the seatbelt of the truck in and exhaled as Abel sucked on his thumb next to her. Unbeknownst to him, she was loosing her mind.

"Get it together, Liv," she exhaled and griped the steering wheel of the truck as she rested her forehead against it. "Vivian is right," she mumbled to herself, "she's right. You can do this. He's a baby and you wanted another baby," she nodded, trying to convince herself of what she was saying. "Let your husband have a night with the kids… he loves being with them, don't take it from him," she exhaled and sat up.

Olivia glanced over at Abel, "You must think I'm nuts, huh?" she asked and started the truck. Turned the heater on to warm him. "I think I'm going nuts. I'm turning into a whack job," she scoffed and shook her head.

Abel simply sucked on his thumb, waited for the lady in the driver's seat to get it together so they could get on the road and he could get back to sleeping.

"I'm not always like this, Abel… I," she jumped, cut off by the sound of her cell phone. She flipped it open and answered immediately, "El? El, where are you?"

"At the movies with the kids, what's wrong?"

She looked at Abel and held her face in her palm, "Elliot," she cried into the phone despite wanting to spare her husband of this. She didn't want him to come home, she wanted him to enjoy his time with the kids.

"Liv, what's wrong?" he demanded in concern. "Tell me."

"Why'd you leave me alone with him?" she cried, "Why? I wasn't ready to be alone with him. I'm not ready. I'm not-"

He smiled into the phone. His wife was flipping out. "Liv… shhh. It's okay," he told her gently.

"Elliot, I need you home. Please? Come home."

"Liv… answer me one question."

"What?" she hiccupped.

"Do you think you're going to hurt him?"

"What?" she furrowed her brows, insulted. "Are you kidding me?"

"Liv, I don't think you will. I don't believe you will, but are you stressed out so much that you might? "

"What! No! You jerk!"

He chuckled, "Then I want you to pull yourself together and spend some time with him, Liv. Try to connect with him, we'll be home in a few hours."

Her eyes widened and her fury raced through her body, "You want me to try and connect with a baby that I don't want?"

"You do want him, Liv," he whispered into the phone. "We made the right choice… I'll see you in a few hours-"

"Elliot!"

"I love you, Liv," he said softly and gently closed his phone before returning to the movie.

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"Excuse me?" Olivia cleared her throat and smiled down at the middle aged mechanic.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

She shifted Abel in her arms, adjusted his blanket as she spoke, "Is Mr. Gethering here?"

"Mr Gethering?" he smiled, "Haven't heard the ol' man called that before…who are you?"

Olivia shook her head, "Please. Is he here or not?"

The mechanic eyed the clock, "Probably be back in about 10 or 15 minutes, went to pick up a new carburetor for his super bee."

She smiled, "Super bee? Finally got it, huh?"

"Indeed," the man laughed and welcomed her to sit, "would you like something warm to drink? It's colder than snowman snot out there."

Olivia smirked, sat gently and placed Abel against her shoulder, "I'd appreciate it very much."

He nodded, "No problem." He said and stood to his feet to gather her a drink, "Ole' Gary… or uh, Mr. Gethering as you call him, he insists we treat every customer as if they were family," he chuckled. "Old bastards got a big heart," he said and stood in front of the coffee maker, looking directly into the window of his bosses office.

"He does have a big heart," Olivia agreed and felt Abel clutch tightly to her finger, drawing it to his lips and then into his warm mouth. He sucked on her finger and she stared at him, felt the sensation of him trying to gain strength from her even reflexively and it humbled her.

That a life was depending on her. A life that she was scared of.

"Want some sugar in this?" the man asked and shook her from her thoughts.

"Y-yes, please," she nodded and as much as she wanted to take her finger from his mouth, as concerned as she was that she might have touched something dirty, she didn't withdraw her finger from his mouth.

"Olivia?" the mechanic turned around very suddenly and stared at her. "You're Olivia?"

Olivia's eyes grew wide, "Excuse me? How do you know my name?"

The mechanic looked back through the window, looked back at an old photograph his boss kept on his desk and gushed about damn near every day that he could, "Gary keeps a picture of you on his desk," he shook his head. "Why didn't you say you were his daughter?" he smiled. "Man, he talks about you like there is no tomorrow, Olivia-this and-"

"That's enough Phillip," a firm voice cut through the mechanic's story.

"Mr. Gethering?" Olivia stood slowly and smiled, "Hi,"

"Mister?" Phillip furrowed his brows and looked between them both.

Mr. Gethering looked at him, "Don't you have an Air Conditioning unit to look at."

Phillip ducked his head, "Right, boss."

"Still make then men run, I see," Olivia smiled softly.

Mr. Gethering smiled bright and wide, "It's nice to see you again, Olivia."

She licked her lips, nodded to the mechanic that was obviously telling another mechanic that the bosses daughter was in the waiting area, "Daughter?"

He took a breath, furrowed his brow, "Just like I've always told you. Daughter."

She nodded, swallowed and her tears were falling suddenly, "Mr. Gethering-"

"Gary, call me Gary. For once in your life, Olivia… call me Gary," he whispered and moved to her, touched her arm softly and rubbed her soothingly before looking down at the baby, "Well, this certainly isn't the one that was in the over last time… it's been far too long since I've seen you… another one?" he smiled bright. "May I hold him?"

She sniffled, carefully handed the older man the baby and shuddered a breath, "Mr. Gethering, I really need to talk to you."

He smiled, held out his hand, his knuckled slightly disfigured with age and mechanical work, but nonetheless familiar to her. "Come on to my office, Olivia. It's a bit warmer in there for the baby," he said softly and led her.

"Take a seat," he said and motioned to the dilapidated couch, "just pull that towel there and sit on it. The mechanics sit there and some times they have grease on themselves and track it all over the place," he told her and smiled down at the bundle in his arms. "What's his name?"

"Abel," she whispered softly and exhaled. "He's not mine," she blurted.

"Oh," he nodded.

"I mean… he is, but he's not," she shut her eyes. This was a bad idea. Crown her the queen of idiots. "I'm sorry Mr… I mean, Gary. I… I need to go."

"Olivia," he smiled warmly and chuckled, "do you remember when I taught you to ride a bike?"

"Uggh," she shook her head, "that was bad," she laughed softly.

"You fell and fell and fell."

"Don't remind me," she smirked and was suddenly relaxed with the much older gentleman, suddenly calm having someone from her past in her present. Her past that was filled with such pain and unspeakable loneliness until he'd come along and helped her through. Why hadn't she kept in contact with him?

"You just kept getting' back on the damn thing and I though for sure you'd kill yourself. Couldn't turn. Couldn't stop," he laughed, "you'd go down the path yelling bloody murder and then use the first bush to stop."

She laughed, remembering that that was exactly what she did to stop. Find a bush that didn't look to bad and head for it. She smiled and looked at him with Abel in his arms, "Gary?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know about me?"

He licked his lips, "Of course I knew about you, I was there for years with you. How could I not know you existed?" he asked, confusion making it's way into his eyes.

She shook her head, all fun and playfulness suddenly cast away, "No, Mr. Geth-Gary, I mean… did you know about me? About how I was conceived? Did my mom ever tell you?"

His bright face grew dark, he held Abel closer and he exhaled, "Does he sleep through the night?"

Olivia blinked, "W-what?"

"This little treasure, here. Does he sleep through the night?"

"Mr. Gethering," she pushed, "did you know about me? Please? I have to know."

He exhaled, "Do you remember the night… your mother locked you out of the house?"

"Which one?" she scoffed.

"The one in December, just after Christmas… I'd gotten you a new winter coat. Do you Remember?"

Olivia exhaled, looked down into her lap, "I was thirteen. She was drunk. The temperature was… freezing. Yeah, I remember."

"You called me. Do you remember that? You called me to pick you up."

"I do," she nodded and watched in gentle surprise as Abel fell asleep against he chest of a perfect stranger. Trusting.

"I came and got you-"

"And you went into the house to get me some clothes for school the next day and she wouldn't give you the coat."

"Mmm. She was a mean drunk."

"Mr-"

"Don't defend her, Olivia. Don't."

She sat back on the couch and her eyes bounced around at the smudges of oil and grease and grim and in the back of her mind she remembered that it was the same smell that lingered in the Chevelle he'd picked her up in that night. "She… was her."

"She was drunk, Olivia and she said things about you to me… that I hoped to heaven you never ever heard."

She licked her lips, wiped quickly at a tear and shook her head, "The alcohol changed her. She was okay without it. She was fun."

"She was," he agreed, "and I fell in love with her and I stayed with her as long as I could, but… well, yeah honey… I knew about you."

"Is that why you left, Mr. Gethering?" she suddenly blurted in childhood curiosity as if she were Sam asking where he'd gone wrong again.

"Oh no, Olivia," he said and kissed the crown of Abel's head. "I didn't care how you were conceived. Just that you were and that I got you."

She couldn't wrap her mind around it, "But, then why'd you leave? I remember you left a while after that… was it too hard to raise me? Did I do something to make it hard on you, that you just walked away from me?"

"What?" his eyes welled-up, "Olivia, you are so far from the truth, darling. So far."

She let out a sob. His old nickname for her suddenly grabbing at her. She shook her head, "Why did you go? I mean," she sniffled, "I… you were the only good thing there. Why?"

"Do you remember your sudden move?" he asked softly and rubbed Abel's small back.

Olivia furrowed her brow, "Yeah. Yeah… you stopped coming by."

"The alcohol… it won, Olivia. She moved and I couldn't even find you for awhile. It was about a month later that I finally tracked you down and… she wouldn't let me around you, kid. She just… completely shut down and pushed me out of your lives."

"She told me," she wept, "that… I was why you left. That you couldn't handle why I was born and that," her voice began to break into a pathetic whimper, "if I hadn't of called you that night… you wouldn't have left."

He exhaled, "Then why did you ask me if I knew about you? If you knew that I did?"

She looked back into her lap, "I needed to know… I need to know… if you left because of me, Mr. Gethering. If it was too much."

Gary Gethering leaned forward in the seat, his hands supporting Abel as he looked at Olivia, "You look at me and you grab a hold of what I'm telling you Darlin'… she lied to you. Do you hear me? Your mother lied to you. There was nothing about you that made me want to leave. In fact… you were what kept me around as long I was."

Olivia struggled so hard to keep tears at bay, to keep emotions in check. Abel has unraveled her. He has destroyed her. Made her feel every hurt and insecurity all over again, "My husband… he knows about you."

He smiled proud and pointed at the last picture that Olivia had mailed to him, so many years ago, her hair a ratted mess which was totally appropriate for that time, "My whole crew and damn near every person that sits in this office knows about you."

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She needed to pound the punching bag. She needed to get her mind off of all of emotions she was feeling and if that meant standing outside in the freezing cold in her gi pants and compression shirt. She'd do it.

And she'd been pounding the bag that Elliot hooked for her long ago and occasionally uses himself, for a long time now. Long enough that the cold has no control over her body. Long enough that she can feel the sweat on her brow.

She imagines the bag to be Oliver and she kicked the hell out of it. Growling and yelling and spinning and producing as much force and impact as her body will allow. She is beyond frustrated with her past, and she is fighting like hell to not be afraid of her future.

Oliver had stolen her dignity and so she delivers a clean snap kick to the front of the bag.

He's pushed into her body without her consent and she punches the front of the bag with a lethal combination of speed and accuracy. He'd made her come with his thrusts, and in so doing scared her away from the most intimate thing imaginable, making love to her husband, and so she spins around, the back of her hand connecting with the bag and sending it jumping. If it really were Oliver, he'd be in a lot of trouble right now.

And her mother, she yells in anger just thinking about her. She yells because even though she is dead she has still reached out and screwed with her and so she leans into the bag and pummels it with punch after punch, her frustrated growl turning into a sob as she pulverized the canvas bag and when her arms were too tired to continue, she'd taken a step back and chamber what seemed like every emotion she's has ever felt and brought her rear leg out, her body shifting until her foot collided with the bag, so violently the bag's weight snapped it from the hook.

She had momentarily thought it was her own crying that she'd heard when the top of her foot inadvertently hit the metal ring of the bag, but when she noticed she was panting, and her tears weren't flowing, she turned and faced the monitor. Heard his cries and took in breaths to calm her self.

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Mr. Gethering had wanted to stay. He'd wanted to stay for _her_. The daughter of a rapist. The _product _of a rape. She wasn't the reason why he'd left. She was the reason he'd stayed that long. Twenty some odd years later, it's a load off of her shoulders to know.

"Hey," she whispered, her body still hot and shaky from her work out as she peered into he play pen. She'd walked with him at a small park as the sun was just beginning to set. She walked with Abel in her arms and spoke to him as if he understood her. Confessed fears and worries and all the things that made her afraid of him. And then she prayed and she begged and pleaded with God to not let her mess him up, to not let her do something to him that would totally screw up his entire life.

"Hey, Abie," she tried out the newly imposed nickname on him and gently lifted him from the play pin and into her embrace. He quieted the very moment she'd begun to sing over him. "So that's what you like? You like to be sung to?" she asked softly and looked at him closely. Inspected him.

Olivia took a deep breath. There was nothing wrong with the child she held in her arms. Nothing. "I think," she smiled down at him, "that you need a bath. That's something I haven't been able to do with you, is it?"

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She dipped her hand into the water of her bathroom sink and was satisfied it would keep him warm, but wouldn't hurt him. Olivia laid him on their bed and carefully stripped him of his clothing and pamper before taking him quickly in her arms and returning to the sink before he became cold.

His skin felt just as soft as Isaac's had and his toes and feet moved just as much as Hannah's had. He began to fuss when she adjusted him and the cool air hit his body, he fussed and sounded just like Solomon had when he was this tiny.

Slowly and with renewed care, Olivia placed his tiny body in the shallow water and froze the moment she saw his face.

His nose had scrunched up the moment he felt the water.

She laughed in the confines of the restroom and gently washed his small body, "Ell- Your father says I do that, too," she told him and carefully wet his hair. Washing and assessing him as her hands moved over his body. When her children were born, all that mattered was ten little fingers and ten little toes.

She washed his infant feet and mentally counted each toe. Ten.

Olivia continued to rinse his body and very quickly withdrew him and wrapped him in a towel, ushering him to the bed where she'd laid out the items needed to get him warm fast.

She rubbed lotion over his body, took into account the small mole just east of his belly button. Took into account his large eyes and his shoulders that while young, seemed very strong.

His pamper was on knowing full well the damage a little boy can do if left the opportunity. Solomon's old pajamas covered his body in minutes and he was zipped up into warmth. She rubbed his small chest and he reflexively covered her hand with his.

She mentally counted each finger. Ten.

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Alex starred at her cell phone as it vibrated on the night stand of the hotel room. It vibrated and spun around and then stopped and minutes later started again and then stopped.

She knew it was him.

She reached out for the phone, wanting to hear his voice, hoping he'd left a message so she could, but it suddenly danced again on the nightstand and she pulled her hand back as if it were fire and she were ice.

She closed her eyes. Saw him. Opened them and saw him in her mind again. She reached out, quickly made use of the phone and listened to his voice. Listen to the messages that pleaded for her to call him, listened to the messages that begged her to come home to him to talk.

Alex rolled to her back, flipped her phone shut and lost focus on the ceiling as her vision blurred with tears.

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She checked her watch and exhaled, her husband should have been home awhile ago and the banana that she had after she fed Abel and took a shower, was working it's last calorie. Her eye-lids were drooping, the exhaustion of the days events doing her in a little earlier than normal. She wanted to wait up for the kids, hear about their adventure with their father, but the more she thought about Elliot, the more she wanted him near her.

She wanted him next to her and she'd want comfort sex, but even as she thought about him moving slowly over her body, she also thought about her body's sudden sporadic cooperation. She exhaled, groaned and rolled over in their bed.

Why stare at the ceiling when you can stare at the wall.

That was next to The Liberator Wedge.

Which… brought her to something else. An idea.

She sat up, licked her lips in though and bent to open the drawer of her night stand. If he could masturbate then, it was only fair that she could too, as well wasn't it? And technically, this really wasn't _masturbation per se,_ so much as… data collection. If it really was a 'life-like' replica of her husband than she should be able to figure out the problem without telling him, right? So it really wasn't masturbation at all. Right?

She slid the replicated dildo out of its pouch and blushed as if she were being watched. It really did do what the box said. Captured every vein and ridge. She knew his penis like the back of her hand and this was definitely as close to life like as it got.

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Elliot smirked as he pulled the car load of sleeping children into the drive-way. She'd driven the truck that she hates to drive, that she complains of its turning radius and custom suspension. She hates to drive it. Loves to have sex in it. He'd put Abel's car seat by the front door of the house as a 'just in case' and he can tell, from her crappy parking job, that she'd gone somewhere.

He smiled and nudged Sam, "Hey, sleepy… wake it up. I need help getting the kids in the house."

Sam exhaled and sleepily maneuvered out of the SUV, "I'll get Hannah," he mumbled and opened the rear door to unclip her. He pulled her into his arms and smiled when she wrapped instinctively around his body.

"Sammy," she giggled sleepily, "I'na see mommy."

"in the morning, I promise," he smiled against her cheek and held tightly to the rail of the porch and carefully navigated his way, his father catching up to him with Isaac and Solomon in no time.

"It's pretty late, Sam. Probably shouldn't have grabbed the second movie."

"I know," he yawned and adjusted his sister in his arms, "I'll put her asleep and then I'll talk to mom."

"Here," Elliot whispered, "you're exhausted, take Isaac, give me Hannah."

Sam happily and carefully made the trade, "I still want mom," he said as a still asleep Isaac, stood next to his brother. Groggy and struggling for balance.

"Better get him to bed or he'll wake up and you're done," Elliot teased his boy, knowing full well both of them would be out in minutes.

"Daddy," Isaac began to snivel somewhere between sleep and otherwise. He rubbed his eye with his fist and began to cry. "Mommy."

"Come on," Sam told him and gently took his hand. "Come on brother, I'll help you."

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Elliot had just covered Solomon with his comforter when he could have sworn he'd heard something from their room. He padded lightly down the hall to the master bedroom, expecting to see his wife asleep. He really should have just come home after the movie, but he also wanted her to have as much time as possible, alone with their new son.

He was surprised to see that she'd closed the door, but not all the way, as if she'd done it in a rush and didn't realize that if drifted back open a small fraction. He was about to push the door open when he heard it again.

A moan.

From his wife.

But there was something in it that caught his attention, something low and sexy that made him inch the door open only slightly.

His eyes bulged at what he saw. His wife, laying on the bed, one knee bent while her other leg remained straight. Her hand was moving against her and his brows raised in surprised. He peered closer feeling only slightly bad for taking advantage of being able to watch her.

She bit her lip, moaned as her hand continued to move. He really wished she didn't have her nightie bunched up around her waist like that. He'd prefer it to be off so he could see everything.

He sees her hand move again and her neck arches back, her voice hitches and to his surprise, he sees that she's not just touching herself, she's using his penis to do this. Well, his replicated penis. But, that means she wanted him, right? And since he's here and his pants are tighter than they were two minutes ago, she'd probably help him with that, right?

He watches her push into the mattress with her foot, her back rise as she whimpers and he knows from that sound that she is about to break. He wants to give her the real thing. Tell her she doesn't have to go that route when he's right here.

She squirms on the mattress and her hand moves faster, her leg falls wider and he can't resist it anymore. He walks into the room, his pants already unzipped and unbuckled to give him a little extra room.

She, in her current state hasn't even noticed him yet. Her eyes are shut tight and as he looks at her, there is something not exactly right, she's been whimpering too long. She's building but there is no release.

He smirks, decides to himself that he'll help her with that.

He reaches out to touch the hand that is pleasuring her self and he accidentally grazes her inner thigh.

She moves like lighting. Startled by a touch she wasn't expecting because there was no one in her house. She grabs his hand and he feels the hold she is about to create for the sole purpose of breaking his wrist.

"Liv!" he grounds out, "it's me!"

She is instantly mortified and in a flurry pushes away the object that wasn't doing what she'd hoped. "Elliot!" she gasped and pulled the sheet over her body, her back smacked against the head board and she wished that right here, right now. She would die.

"Liv," he smiled and chuckled, "Liv, that was hot."

She reached for whatever she could find to throw at him and it just so happened to be the phone, "GET OUT!"


	19. Confusion

Silver Lining:

Chapter 19

Mortification was clearly etched into Olivia's face and Elliot couldn't figure out why. That had been the hottest thing he's seen her do for a long time. Really, he had to stop himself from flying through the door and climbing on top of her body and taking her right then an there, because the very site of her masturbating and thinking of him…. Oh man.

"GET OUT!" she screeched again, reached behind her and torpedoed a pillow through the air at her husband who was absolutely clueless as to what was happening.

"Liv."

"Move!" she snapped, reached for another pillow and threw it at him before quickly leaving their bed and attempting to retreat to the bathroom before he cut her off.

"Oliv-"

"Leave me alone!" she yelled and shoved past him. Abel crying from his crib at the sudden commotion. She slammed the bathroom door.

He cried a little harder.

"Liv," Elliot knocked gently. "Honey… I didn't mean to embarrass you. Please come out."

He could hear her crying, "Leave me alone, Elliot."

"Liv-"

"Elliot! PLEASE!"

He sucked in a weak breath and moved to pick up the crying boy, "Hi," Elliot grinned and cradled him close to his body. "Did you have fun with your mom?"

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She wanted the heat of the shower to take everything away. Her doubt, her frustrations and her anger. She wanted it to go down the drain and never come back, she wanted it to melt off of her body and maybe take her with it.

What was she supposed to tell Elliot now? It's okay for her to masturbate, but not him? She slapped the tile her palm rested on to brace herself. It stung. How was she supposed to explain to him that she just wanted to see? She wanted to see what in the world was wrong with her body. She wanted to know, for herself, why she can come for him, stretched out on the washer, but struggled elsewhere.

It's frustrating to be on the brink, to see her husband's face pleading with her to come so that he can, and so she learned to distract him. Give up on herself and put her focus on him. Bring him release with her mouth, her hands, or simply let him go. She'll tell him she still enjoyed it.

And she does. Who wouldn't enjoy his body, his mouth, his thrusts?

But as much as she enjoys it… she wants to come with him inside of her. She wondered if it could be old age. If she was already experiencing early onset menopause or something like that. She'd heard stories before of women having difficulty while going through 'the change'.

She exhaled bowed her head and let her hair fall and hang, water dripping off and pouring along her hair's texture in its own rhythm. She was almost relaxed, almost able to start contemplating ending her second shower for the night and going to talk to Elliot, but her body instantly stiffened the moment she heard the bathroom door-knob turn. His groan.

Did he really think she'd retreat and not lock the door after being caught in such a precarious situation?

He's relentless when he wants to talk to her and she can't figure out if that's a good trait or if it makes her want to kill him sometimes.

"Liv?" his knuckles hit the wood of the door and her eyes closed trying to shut him out of her mind, if only for a second.

"Liv! Open it!" His voice isn't angry, it's slightly panicked, a little worried and because she is standing there, with her eyes closed and the water is dripping down her body, she envisioned him on the other side of the door. His brows dipped, his hand tugging at the knob in hopes it would magically open.

"Elliot!" her screech surprised her. The irritation with him pushing her this hard, this fast after the fact. Really? Could she not just have a proper melt down without him having to be there to help her find her form again?

No.

She needed him.

"Olivia! This isn't funny, open up this door or I swear to you, I'm gonna open it myself!"

"El," her voice hung on emotion and frustration and everything that has poured into her lap the last several days. She isn't gonna make it. "Please go away. Please give me some space, right now," she asked miserably.

He pounded his fist into the door and his voice was incredulous, "Space?"

"Space!" she made her own fist, slammed it against her own area in equal frustration.

He hit the door again. Harder and took a step back. He turned, was about to give her the very thing she asked for when his body lurched at the door again. His fist hitting it and he knew, if he was in the bathroom with her, she'd jump at the outburst. It would startle her, throw her off for a millisecond, before she'd strike back. "OPEN THE DOOR!" he yelled and slapped his palm against the wood again.

From the other side, he heard the words that made him want to put his foot through the wood, "Elliot! I don't want you right now!"

It'd knocked the wind out of him as he stood there, and his voice was about to erupt when a much softer voice took away his steam.

"Daddy," Isaac sniffled, standing near the bed. "Daddy, why are yelling at mommy?"

Elliot spun around, his hands instantly checking his pants. A small amount of relief flooding him when he'd remembered to zip up before taking Abel into the living room and allowing him to sleep in the play pen. "Rookie," his voice broke. "Oh, Rookie, I'm sorry… Mom's in the shower, she couldn't hear me was all."

Isaac sniffled and shook his head, "Uh uh. You were being mean to her. Yellin' at her. I saw you."

"Rookie," he started and closed the spaced between them, "I-"

"You woke me up," he cried, "'Cause you're being mean to mommy!" he said and promptly pushed his father's thigh and made his way passed him to the door, crying as his much smaller fist beat at the door, "Mommy!"

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Olivia's head cocked to the side. She'd heard a softer sound, not the heavy, demanding sound of her husband's hand against the door, but a softer one, accompanied by a muffled something she couldn't quite hear. She furrowed her brow, turned the water off neglecting the left behind suds in her hair.

"Mommy!"

"Isaac?" she called and pulled the shower curtain open, a towel quickly placed around her dripping body, "Honey?"

"Mommy! Open it! It's me!" he said frantically.

Olivia opened the door in an instant and didn't understand what was happening. She looked up at her husband accusingly, "You woke him up to get me?"

Elliot was about to protest the assumption when he was cut off.

"Mommy, why are you fighting? Why is daddy yelling? Why are you away?" he cried and threw his hands around his mother's body, pushing his face into the soft towel. "Mommy," he pleaded for answers. Wanted to know what had happened to make his father hit the door like that. Especially when his mother was on the other side. Doesn't he know that loud sounds like that will scare someone?

They scared him.

Elliot looked at the two. Somehow, he was always the bad guy. Always the one yelling, always the one doing something wrong in someone's eyes.

Olivia rubbed Isaac's back softly as he cried against her. She slowly raised her gaze to meet Elliot's and the look of dejection she saw there crushed her. How is it that she could screw something up again? How does she always manage to pit the kids against their father, when she wants them to see how amazing he is? "El-"

"Don't," he shook his head and waved his hand as he walked away. "Just don't, Olivia."

"Honey," Olivia said softly and kneeled, careful to keep her towel closed. "Come here," she whispered and picked him up into her arms. "You're okay," she assured him and took him to the bed where she sat with him on her lap.

"I don't like the yelling."

"I'm sorry," she whispered and kissed the crown of his head. "Did we scare you?"

He shook his head against his mother, "I woke up to go potty and I heard the banging and I thought it was a monster and I was coming to save you and Daddy… but Daddy was the monster."

"No," she corrected him immediately and pulled him back to look at him. "You're daddy isn't a monster."

"He was scarin' you. He was pounding on the door, Mommy. I heard it and then I saw it. I didn't have my glasses but I could see it," he told her, shaking his head. "I could see."

She smiled sweetly at her son, "Honey… Daddy didn't scare me and yeah… he was knocking loud-"

"Super loud."

"Super loud," she conceded, "but, he probably thought I couldn't hear him, you know?"

He cocked his head, eyed his mother in suspicion, he turned his head to the door of the room, tried to reconcile his five year old mind with his father's facial features, "No," he told her and looked back at her, "No. You're lyin'."

Her eyes, widened, "Excuse me?"

He rubbed his eyes with his fist and began to cry again, "Mommy you're not tellin' the truth and Sammy says that you and daddy always tell the truth."

She exhaled, ran her hand over his blond hair, "Sweety, daddy and I were talking about something and I was being rude to daddy and I wouldn't let him talk to me anymore."

He thought about this new explanation, mulled it over and processed it, "_You_ got daddy mad?" he asked with raised brows as if he's never known his mother to have possessed such power over his father. His father who he knows loves his mother and would give her all the Lego's in the entire world for her birthday if he could.

The cool air nipped at her skin and she shivered, "Yeah," she shook her head and she didn't have to put on her sad face. It was already there. "I messed up and Daddy was just trying to rescue me, that's all."

"Rescue?"

"Yeah," she smiled miserably, knowing full well that rescuing her from an impending emotional break-down was exactly what Elliot was trying to do.

He giggled his perfect five-year-old boy giggle that was full of honey and all things sweet, "'Cause you're a princess?"

She grinned at his logic and met her forehead to her son's, "You know it buddy."

He wrapped his small hands around her neck and crossed his eyes to keep his focus on his mother, "He was gonna fight a big ol' ugly demon-guy and save you from a dungeon?"

She absorbed his words, his innocent fairy tale synopsis and her eyes watered. She sniffled, kissed his cheek and pulled his head to rest against her chest, "Yeah… yeah he was, honey."

"Ah! Cool!" he smiled against his mother and then proceeded to yawn before curling up tighter to her. Bringing her a little bit of warmth.

She'd hoped that as she held him, the rogue soap suds in her hair didn't get into his eyes, but even more than that, she hoped her tears didn't spot his cheek. She held him and rocked softly with him, her little boy that tried to save her by pounding with all his might against a door. She'd opened it instantly.

And she'd seen what keeping it closed had done to her husband.

She exhaled, shook her head, "Good job, Olivia. Out-frickin-standing, in fact," she clipped and stood slowly with her sleeping son in her arms.

She shivered almost uncontrollably as she tried to keep her towel on and her son asleep. She passed the living room and saw Elliot sitting on the couch, Abel laying sweetly over his chest asleep. She stopped and looked at him and understood why he chose to stare at the ceiling even though she knew that he could feel her looking at him.

She deserved it.

She hugged Isaac a little tighter and left to put him back in his bed. When she returned to the living room, she fully expected to see him in the same position only now, she saw a well swaddled Abel in the play pen and an empty couch.

She thought, maybe she deserved that, too.

She hugged her mid section tighter at a sudden breeze and found the culprit in the slightly opened sliding door. If she freezes out there, she'll know that she had that one coming too.

Her voice is so small when she speaks his name that she immediately cleared her throat and tried again, "El?... Can I talk to you?"

"Done with all your space?" he asked, his voice low, full of sarcasm and covered with a layer of sadness.

Her chin quivered with emotion and the cold night, "That's fair."

"'Cause that's what you and I are all about," he replied, making no motion to turn around and see her. He kept his forearms on the rail of the deck. Stared at the black night.

"I didn't mean-"

"You never mean to do anything. Do you, Liv?"

Okay. She figured she could probably take that one, too. She probably deserved that one as well. If not for today, for yesterday. She dared to take a step closer, her feet and legs freezing as she huddled into herself, "Elliot," she shivered, "please come inside."

He exhaled, his breath floating in a fog through the air. He had to be cold, out here in a dress shirt and slacks. No jacket. She could make him hot chocolate, put cherry in it for him. No. Not cherry, she'd put in cinnamon for him because that's actually his favorite.

"Elliot, I co-"

"I really rather enjoy it out here," he told her and then added salt to the wound he knew he was making, "it's spacious."

She bit her bottom lip, pulled the towel that was doing nothing to warm her body, a bit tighter and left him to himself. Retreated to the shower and no matter how hot she turned the water on, she couldn't get warm. Not without him.

It hadn't taken long to climb into bed alone, cold and still miserable. She curled up into a ball and slammed her eyes shut, tried to force herself to go to sleep so she would be out of her emotional misery for at least a few hours, until she could wake up and do what? Push repeat? The thought dawned on her and she buried her face into her pillow crying.

Minutes passed and she hadn't heard the door slide open, hadn't heard him pad down the hall. An hour passed and she hadn't felt the mattress give to his weight. Olivia balled the comforter into her fists and exhaled a shaky breath. This is her fault. She knows it. She's aware of it. But what she isn't aware of is what is happening to her body and she doesn't know how to explain it to him and she'd tired and she has a new infant that needs her and she doesn't know what to do and… She shook her head, blinked out tears, she's dying under a list of things she can't figure out and maybe that's just it.

She can't figure it out.

She's not the bad-ass detective she was that fit pieces together no matter how abstract they were. She's not the hard-nosed cop that danced linguistics with perps. She's a wife now and more often than not, she still doesn't know how to be one. And the mother part? Oye. Oye-oye-oye. The mistakes that she makes with her children, she can only hope don't bite them in the end.

She's a wife now, and more often than not she can't figure out how to be one.

She sobbed into the pillow again and she didn't know if it was because she's turned into a case study psycho or if it's because ninety-five minutes have passed and he still hasn't come to bed.

She rolled to her side and tried to calm herself down. Thought of Sam and how much he's grown. Thought of Isaac streaking through the house, of Hannah's smile, Solomon's giggle. Her tears kept coming, but the sobbing over the course of minutes, had subsided just enough that finally, after close to two hours she heard him padding down the hall, his steps timid, quiet. She didn't know if he was trying to keep from waking her, assuming she was asleep, or if she'd finally taken him down with her selfish, hot and cold behavior.

And suddenly, she couldn't hear his steps anymore. She wanted to turn her body to face him, to tell him that she's sorry she's a mess. She wanted to look at him, understand him and let him vent this time. She wanted him to be able to tell her that she was idiot and that she was being absurd.

But he never would. Just wasn't him. The corner of her mouth twitched a little at the thought.

She could feel him staring at her for long minutes and she caught her self praying for a piano to fall out of the sky and land on her. That would probably so much easier then having to turn around and see that look of disappointment with her on his face.

She hates that look.

She felt the mattress dip and she tensed, tried to hold herself as still as possible in the hopes that he would assume she was asleep. She heard him toe his shoes off and simply lay down, on top of the comforter.

Separating himself from her.

He stared up at the ceiling, his forearm over his forehead and he simply stared because he didn't know what else to do. He'd thought she was sexy. His body responded to just the sight and sound of her and so he moved to be with her. He moved because there is no place safer that being inside of his wife, no place more calming or healing.

He's broken, too. He needs to be calmed, too. He needs to be healed. Taking Abel into their home had been the right decision, today he's sure of it, but he also knew he was a bastard for doing it.

For bringing Olivia a reminder of something she'd give anything to forget.

He's broken, too, because he knows he's breaking her but doesn't understand why she doesn't see what that does to him. He doesn't understand why everything he does has been so incredibly wrong, which brings him to the only thought he can register.

"I'm sorry, Liv." His voice is painful in its confession. It's full of something she can't identify. Pain? Why?

She sniffled, wiped at her eyes, "Sorry? Sorry for what? You didn't do anything, El."

"Maybe," he kept staring at the ceiling and he wondered if it was possible for only his half of the roof to cave in and swallow him. Spare her. "Maybe," he continued, "that's what I'm sorry for… For not stopping White."

Her eyes widened in the dark and she was scared to turn over to face him. Scared to know exactly what was on his mind, because… she didn't understand that this was.

He needs to be calmed, too.

"El"

"I think," he cut her off, his voice's cadence anything but solid. "I think about that night Liv," he said and didn't really care about the tear that ran down his face. "I think about that night and I think that… I survived it, but sometimes… sometimes I'm not sure I can survive what's left of it."

_This is it. He's had enough. He's leaving you, Olivia. _

She wanted to roll over but she was stuck. Shocked. She was bracing herself for him to say it. Bracing herself for him to say that he couldn't take her ups and downs anymore and he had to leave.

He needs to be healed, too.

Go somewhere he can breathe. Somewhere spacious.

He kept talking and she wondered if he heard her call his name. Wondered if he assumed she'd fallen back asleep. Wondered if she was supposed to be hearing this. If she was supposed to wake up and find his side of the bed empty. Permanently.

He sniffed, didn't move, "We have Abel," his voice hitched.

He was crying next to her.

"We have him," he kept going, his voice thrashing about in his throat, "and he's so great, but I see you struggle with him and I can't help but think… If I just didn't go outside of the house that night, you could be pregnant right now. That we… we wouldn't have to have him and you wouldn't have to struggle so much, baby…. I'm so sorry, Olivia. I'm sorry I can't give you another baby. I'm sorry, Liv."

She felt the bed jerk as he struggled to cry silently.

She rolled her body, pushed herself up and gently cupped his cheek with her hand, turned his face to meet hers and wiped his tear with her thumb. His arm left his forehead and bent to touch her cheek lightly, "I'm sorry, Olivia."

She couldn't help it, "Are you leaving me?"

He closed his eyes, opened them again and shook his head, "No… I'm asking for your forgiveness."

She shook her head and cried against his hand. Turned her mouth and kissed his palm gently before crawling so close to him she draped most of her body over his, hid her face in his neck, "Don't be sorry. Don't. Don't be sorry, El. You didn't do anything wrong."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her desperately tight against his body, "Then why do I feel like I did, Liv? Please give me an answer. Please, baby?" he begged and buried his face into her hair to muffle the pathetic sounds his crying was making.

"Because," she sniffled and pulled back to look at him, her hand on his cheek, "I still haven't learned how _not_ to be selfish."

"You're not-"

"Yes. Elliot. I am. I am. And I've been selfish for so long that… it's taking me longer than I thought it would to know something different. I should be the one telling you that I'm sorry… We took in Abel," she smiled softly, "we took him in and… I'm learning about him, Elliot. I am."

"You're not selfish, Liv," he assured her. "You're not."

"Elliot," she lowered her hand and rested it on his chest. "You took the kids for me today. You let me sleep, you let me get some rest and gave me a day with him to try and let us connect and… I didn't even see it that way. That's how much of an idiot I am, Elliot. You do something amazing to help me, and I see it completely backwards and inside out."

"I wanted you… to spend time with him, Liv. Spend time with him and see that he's okay. He's not gonna hurt you. He's not gonna hurt us."

She took a moment, soaked in his words. Accepted them and let her hand slip down from his chest to his ribs, her thumb rubbing the fabric of his shirt softly. "You did everything you could that night, Elliot… everything."

The tears welled up in his eyes again, "Sometimes… sometimes I know that."

"And other times?" she encouraged softly.

He swallowed, stared at the column of her neck, "Other times… other times I," he shook his head unwilling to confess.

Olivia cupped his cheek, kissed his lips softly, the line of his jaw and ear lobe, "Other times, what? Tell me."

He suddenly pushed her away and she was cold again. He sat up, tried to leave the bed and she crawled over the comforter, grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him back to the bed, "No. No," she told him, her voice steady and smooth against his ear. "You and me, we settle this. I'm freaking out, Elliot. I'm not going to lie to you. I am. But… I'm starting to figure out, that… I'm not the only one in a struggle, am I? Maybe it's for different reasons maybe it's for some of the same reasons but we're struggling,"

Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly from behind, "Tell me."

He covered her hands with one of his large ones and held them near his heart, "Other times…," his voice broke again and he was pretty sure he sounded useless. "Other times, I try convincing myself that you don't blame me for not being able to give you a baby. That you don't think I could have done more to stop him. That I should have."

She closed her eyes, held onto him as tight as she could and gently rocked with him, vaguely aware that his tears were falling on her hands in front of him. She let him cry, let him finally feel, without her cutting him off, robbing him of emotion, robbing him of his right to break.

She pressed her lips against his neck, held them there for a long moment and waited for his shoulders to stop jerking, waited for his heart rate to stop racing, for his breathing to return to normal.

She readjusted her hold on him to even stronger and rested her lips at his ear, "Listen to me-"

"Liv-"

She squeezed her arms, "Listen. Please?" She paused and took his silence as consent, "You did everything you knew how to do, Elliot. You got Sam in the house. You fought and you fought with everything you had. I went over the scene… I've looked at the pictures and I've studied the reports, Elliot-"

"Because you thought I could do more?"

"No," she whispered. "No it wasn't because I thought you could do more, it was because… I knew you'd put yourself through hell believing that you could."

He clenched his eyes shut, held her hands in his and rested his head back onto his wife's shoulder. He needed to be healed too. He thinks it's probably the most amazing thing that Olivia knows how to do. Put him back together after he shatters into pieces.

After several minutes he took in a long deep breath and slowly let it out. "Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"Felt good to get that out," he confessed softly.

She smiled against him, and kissed his neck, "Good. I'm glad you got that out." She bit her bottom lip, smiled in mischief and gently rested her hands on his belt, "Um… If you turned me down right now, I'd understand but, can you get something else out?"

He chuckled, a rumble from his chest, smaller than normal but a rumble still, "Liv… we're not done talking. I want to talk to you."

"I didn't say we had to go to sleep," she whispered. She might be having her own sexual melt down but that didn't mean that she wanted him to go without while she figured things out.

He swallowed when her index gently trailed the outline of his shaft through his slacks, "You know I won't be able to stay awake after I make love to you."

"Who said we'd make love?" she asked and playfully bit at his neck and slowly unbuckled his pants from behind, "Maybe… I just wanted to thank you for giving me a day with him."

"Liv," he shook his head. Her hand felt good. So good. "Liv, I didn't mean to make it hard on you, I didn't mean to embarrass you either, I-"

"Shh," she whispered and dipped her hand into his slacks. Felt his hand reach back and tangle in her hair. "It was hard at first," she smiled softly, "no pun, but I think I figured something out."

"Tell me."

"Later… I want to thank you," she whispered and stoked him gently, "unbutton your shirt."

Such a simple task yet so difficult when her hand is wrapped around his penis. Slowly he separated his hand from her hair, fumbled with a few buttons and eventually got it unbuttoned. "Liv?" he covered her hand with his and groaned, "I won't be lasting very long," he said, his voice tight and already on the verge of growling.

She grinned, backed her body away and he turned immediately to see what the issue was. He smiled when she backed up even further and called him over with her finger.

"Lie down," she instructed and watched him lay back, a soft smile gracing his face and she was so grateful for that smile. So grateful that she could give him that smile, because his tears tore her apart and it kills her to know that she could be the cause of them. That she is.

She kneeled between his legs and smiled at him, on their bed, still in his dress clothes, his tie still tied, his buttons undone and his undershirt making her imagination work. She pulled his slacks down just a little more to give her the room she needed to free his erection.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" he told her.

She saw that he was genuine and it made her want to do this all the more, "Close your eyes, relax. Go to sleep."

"Sleep?" his brows arched.

She smiled, pulled her hair back and slowly took the head of him into her mouth.

He groaned and instantly raised his hips to meet her mouth. "Liv," he breathed.

She let her hair fall to the sides of her face, massaged his inner thigh with one hand and stroked the base of his shaft with her other. He moaned and he really wasn't playing with her. She could tell in his voice this wouldn't take very long.

She tried to slow it down for him, released him from her mouth and attempted to kiss her way to his belly button when she heard him plead. She smiled up at him, watched the heave of his chest as he looked back down, "Please, Liv."

She took him back into the heat of her mouth and he pulled her hair back into a ponytail to watch her, used his other hand to guide her movements. Olivia sped up, applied more pressure and he arched, almost thrusting too far into her mouth. She pulled back slightly, chuckled when he fisted the sheets and begged her to keep going.

She moved at her own will, her own speed, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but within a few short minutes his head tossed back, he barred his teeth and grabbed at the linen, panting and shaking as she applied even more pressure. She fondled his sac and made her motions deeper before massaging his perineum. One stroke and then two before he yelled her name. His body arching even higher, his toes digging in search of the mattress to support himself.

She kept him in her mouth knowing he'd expect her to raise his shirt and let him come. She wanted to thank him and so she'd do this properly. He growled once more and she felt his warmth in her mouth, she moved, although slowly until his body settled and she released him completely.

She sat up, smiled at him.

"Kiss me," he panted and held his hand out to her, "come here."

She crawled to him, and nipped at him before letting him into her mouth. He moaned tasting himself within her. He wanted to be inside of her right now. He did, he wanted to climb on top of her and make her scream his name and tell him that she was wrong; that she was sexy because he'd made her feel that way.

But she really did know how to wear a man out. He smiled against her mouth, pulled away and looked up at her, his hand on her cheek, "Thank you."

She chuckled, "You're welcome," she told him and bit her lower lip. A sudden nervousness edging in.

"You freaked out today."

"I did."

The corner of his mouth lifted, "You did."

"But," she licked her lips, took a moment to construct her words, "can I share something with you?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her into position to spoon with her, "Please."

"You were right," she confessed softly and covered his hands with hers.

"Can we put that on the calendar?' he asked playfully, "the me being right part?"

She turned in his arms, her face serious, "You were right about Abel."

His brow raised just a fraction, "I was?"

She nodded softly, "I gave him a bath today."

He smiled, "He peed on you, huh? I told you that you-"

She placed her finger on his lips, quieted him before dropping her hand and pressing her lips against him, "Why are you nervous?"

"I'm not."

"Too many jokes. You're nervous. Why?"

He pushed her hair behind her ear, "Tell me about Abel."

"Why are you nervous?"

"Tell me about Abel and I'll tell you why I'm nervous."

Her brows rose in slight shock, "So… you really _are_ nervous?"

"Not nervous," he assured her, "just thinking. But, please… tell me about Abel?"

She grinned and it surprised him because in the wake of their newest child's name, her face was pure and relaxed and while he could still read the confusion in her eyes, it was nowhere in her smile and that was a start. "His nose scrunches up… like mine. You told me that when you got him wet, his nose scrunched up… do you think it's really possible? Do you think, he could have a little bit of me in him?"

Elliot grinned, ran his index along the bridge of her nose, "Well," he smirked, "you both do have funny noses-"

Her face registered shock and she slapped his bicep, "Bite me, Stabler."

"You offerin' Stabler?"

She chuckled, averted her eyes immediately, "Shut up…. Tell me why you're nervous."

He waited a moment, weighed the consequences of his actions and took a breath before raising her chin to look at him, "I'm nervous because, I can't figure out…why you won't make love to me?"

She closed her eyes, fought frantically for a believable _something_ and then it dawned on her. She opened her eyes with a new plan. Trusty Aunt Dot. "I'm on my period. I'm sorry… I thought… I thought that would tie you over, I didn'-"

"Shhh," he smiled at her and kissed her forehead, "I'm more than grateful, but Liv?"

"Yeah?"

"My offer still stands, you know?"

"What offer?" she asked, her finger tracing his belly button.

"To listen to you when you're ready to tell me the truth."

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It was the bang that woke him up. The bang and then the sudden flash of light that was so warm. It was the voices and the yelling, it was all of those things that made Isaac Stabler wake up with tears streaming his cheeks. His small chest heaving for air. "Sammy!' he cried and in a flurry, pulled back his comforter and slammed his body into his brother's bed. "Sammy! Sammy I had the bad dream!" he yelled and pushed and pulled on his brother's body as both Zeus and Moses gathered in angst. Zeus next to his boy master and Moses nuzzling Sam to wake up as he lay next to him.

"Isaac?" Sam called groggily. "What is it?"

"Sammy," he sobbed and pulled at his brother, his small legs trying in vein to get up on his brother's bed. To get next to his big brother that he knew without doubt would protect him, "Sammy it's too scary."

Sam sat up in his bed. He knew a thing or two about scary dreams. He knew about waking up with tears on his cheeks, "Come on," he said softly and pulled back his comforter, "get in. Get warm. It's okay."

Isaac cried and sobbed as he climbed into his brother's bed that was entirely too small for both of the boys, "I want Mommy."

"Shhh," Sam whispered. "You're okay, short stack. I promise. I'm right here," he told him and wrapped an arm around his brother. "It's just you and me, bro and we got Zeus and Moses here and Mom and Dad are just on the other end of the house."

"I want them," Isaac sniffled and cuddled as close as possible to his brother.

"You know what?" Sam asked softly and gently raised his fingertips to his little brother's cheeks. Sam felt the moisture and tenderly wiped it away.

"What, Sammy?" Isaac shuddered, his legs curling to get even closer into the protection of his brother.

"I use to have really bad dreams too. Dreams that were so scary… I wet the bed."

Isaac's brows shot up. His big brother wet the bed? No way. Not his brother. His brother was a king, indestructible and way too cool for wetting the bed. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sam exhaled. "I did… for a long time."

"What did you dream about?" Isaac asked and leaned his head on his brother's chest, he could hear his heart beat and it was strong, like their dad's. He hoped one day, his heart would be strong like that. "Was it scary?" he whispered.

"Yeah, bro. It was really scary… so scary that, sometimes I never wanted to fall asleep because I thought I would have the dream again."

Isaac turned his small body and looked at his dog then back at his brother, "Sammy? Can Zeus sleep with us?"

"You can't sleep with me, Isaac. You don't always keep your clothes on and you know I hate that-"

"Ah, Sammy," he sniffled and grabbed at his brother's shirt, "Please? Please? It's scary, Sammy and I'll keep my jammies on. I promise."

Sam smirked, held out his hooked pinky, "Can I get a pinky swear on it?"

Isaac grinned through his tears and hooked his pinky with his brother's, "Pinky swear," he agreed and looked back to his dog, "Come on Zeus," he said and patted the mattress.

Sam and Moses groaned as they all fought to keep their space on the twin bed.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?" Sam yawned, "What?"

"Do you still have bad dreams?" Isaac asked, his hand rubbing his dog's ear.

Sam exhaled, licked his lips, "Yeah. Yeah a lot actually."

"They never go away?"

"Sure, they do," Sam nodded, "Sometimes they're good dreams and sometimes they're bad… but, the dreams I used to have don't bother me a whole bunch anymore."

Isaac curled back into his brother's body and exhaled, "Will you make my dreams go away Sammy? Will you make them good?"

Sam exhaled, remembered how he'd asked his mother the same thing when he was eight, "I can't make them go away, Isaac. I don't have that kind of power."

"But you're Sammy, and you're my brother and I need you, Sammy."

Sam chuckled, felt about his brother's face again and wiped at his cheeks again, "I am your brother, Isaac but… I can't fix this-"

Isaac sobbed into his brother's chest, "I want mommy."

Sam bent his neck, kissed the crown of his little brother's head and whispered, "I love you, Isaac and one day, you're gonna be strong like Dad and you're gonna be strong like mom and one day after that, you won't be afraid anymore."

"You promise?" Isaac whispered, his sleep and exhaustion with all of the fun from the day catching up with him, "You promise me, Sammy?"

"I promise," he whispered and pulled the comforter up around his little brother. "Go to sleep, short-stack."

"With my… dog," Isaac muttered.

Sam waited patiently for his little brother to exhale his normal deep breath that signified he was sleeping. Gently, Sam maneuvered himself back into a laying position, his legs tangled with two dogs and his arms supporting and holding his brother.

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Alex jumped under the stiff covers of her hotel room bed and blinked out the sleep and confusion in her eyes; the same confusion that accompanied her shame and rested heavy on her shoulders. She sat up slowly, "How did you get in here?" she whispered and her voice was…nowhere, full of nothing.

Robert sniffed, ran his hand through his hair as he sat in the far corner of the room, "You used the credit card."

Alex reached out the nightstand and turned the light on, "So what?" she asked.

Robert winced at the sudden flow of light scorching his eyes. He slammed them shut, opened them again and took her into focus. She looked liked she aged about ten years since he saw her last. "So," he chuckled and she could hear the anger and the hurt fight against the other to show dominance. "So, I went to the manager and told him I was checking in late with my wife… because that's who you are, Alex. You're my wife."

"No, Robert. I'm not. Alright? Get that though you're head," she hissed.

Robert shook his head, scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled, tried to swallow a sob, "You're my wife."

"I want a divorce, Robbie" she replied and as much as she tried to make her voice even, he heard the small hitch at the end.

Robbie? She's afraid when she calls him that.

Robert stood to his feet, walked slowly to the bed; not sure what his wife was capable of doing to him in her current state of mind, current state of shame. He sat softly next to her on the bed, the light casting a glow over his features. Highlighting the tears in his eyes. "Al,-"

"Don't," she said and her voice sounded more like a plea, "Don't touch me, Robbie."

He looked down at her pale hand, noticed how it contrasted against the off-white sheets and he defied her by slipping his larger hand over hers and squeezed gently when she tried to pull away from his touch, "I want you home, Al. I want you home with me. Next to me. That's where you belong, Al… it's not home without you, baby."

Her shoulder's shook as she begin to cry, she pulled her knees up to her chest, covered her face with her free arm and shook her head, "I can't."

"Why?" he pleaded, "Why? I _want you_."

Her tears spilled over and she jerked her hand from his, "I can't… I… I just can't."

He sobbed, scooted closer to his wife and cupped her face, his forehead against hers, "Alex-Al, baby. Please. I want you home with me. With Thomas. I miss him and I… I don't know why you needed someone else, but I'll fix it, honey. I will. Please, come back."

She shook her forehead against his and her anguish fell out of her chest in waves, "You were perfect," she confessed in a whisper and wept against him. "You were perfect."

"Then come back home," he cried, his hand fisting in the back of her hair, "please, Al. Come home."

She swallowed, shook her head, "I can't."

He held her so tight that he thought he might hurt her but didn't let go. He pulled back to see her face, "Al-"

He hands rose to meet his chest as she looked at him, "You won't want me the way you use to," she cried. "You'll never make love to me th-"

He cut her off, pulled her to him and kissed her. His lips softy meeting hers and slightly surprised when she immediately pushed her tongue into his mouth. Their tears mixed and he wiped gently at her cheek with the pad of this thumb. He pushed softly against his wife, pulled her impossibly closer to him and separated his mouth from hers, hugging her tightly.

Alex moved her hands up his back, cried against him and hooked her hands over his shoulders. She catalogued every movement he made, memorized his scent and his touch and his kiss.

Gently, he kissed her shoulder, wrapped his arms even tighter around her, possessing her, claiming her as his again, "Come home."

She sobbed as her fingertips dug into his shoulders, "Leave."

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Casey collapsed against her husband, over heated and out of breath, her body glistening in sweat against the soft illumination of candles. She smiled up at Paul as she covered his naked body with her own. She sat up slowly, smirked as he slammed his eyes shut and held her hips. Hissed as she rolled her hips forward, "Case-"

"Keep going," she encouraged and watched him in awe as he came, his hands digging into the flesh of her backside, the chords of his neck bulging as he arched, swallowed a curse and then slowly let his body fall limp.

"Wow," he grinned and chuckled when he finally caught his bearings. "Oh man, I hope Addison stayed asleep through that."

She laughed full and sexy as she ran her hand through her hair, pulling it to the side, "Pretty good?"

"Understatement, Casey," he assured her and tried to move.

"Don't," she shook her head, "not yet… I-"

"What?" he asked gently and grazed the curve of her breast with his fingers, "What is it?"

"I just," she bit her bottom lip, tried to hold back the grin and blush that crept over her face, "I like you and me, together like this."

He bent his legs as she straddled him. His palms warmed her thighs and hips, before he gently pulled her down to him and rolled her to her back, "Do you know how much I love you?"

She shook her head, smiled, "I know."

"You know how sexy I think you are?"

"Really?" she beamed.

"Oh yeah," he smiled and nuzzled her nose with his. "You know how much I love to feel you come around me?"

"Well, I have to say, that-" she stopped, her face suddenly falling down cast as the door bell sounded. She looked at the alarm clock, "It's four O'clock in the morning and someone is at the door?"

He chuckled, "Is it really four? I didn't know I could go that long."

She slapped his chest playfully, "Only 'cause I let you sleep for a few hours."

He licked his lips, smiled humorously, "You know I only need an hour."

"Yeah," she nodded, "but, if I give you two, then I get two," she smiled and jumped at the sound of the doorbell again.

"Let them go away."

"They'll ring again and Addison will be up."

He exhaled, "I'll see who it is" he told her and kissed her chastely on the mouth before grabbing a pair of sweats and heading for the front door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot smiled in the dark morning light of their room. She was shivering, her hands tucked tight under her chin, her legs curled up to keep her body heat in. She'd kicked her covers off. Elliot leaned forward, kissed her forehead and let his lips linger as he pulled the comforter back over her body, tucked the covers under her to keep her warm.

Her hand reached out, rested on his hip and pulled herself closer to him as she slept. Her lips softly kissing his chest before she exhaled and continued to sleep. "You are so beautiful," he whispered absently and ran his hand through her hair, kissing her forehead again.

Elliot watched her sleep and thought that it had to be one of the most remarkable things, being married. It was incredible to come full circle, to disagree, fight, talk and make amends. It was amazing to fall asleep with her resting in his arms, content. Sometimes he thinks that he doesn't have much to offer her, he thinks she could live without him, but its times like these in the early morning hours when the sun still hides, that he sees he is more than enough for her.

He's not arrogant of her love or her presence or the fact that she is his wife, but he has finally come to accept, with her asleep in his arms, that just as she is his axis, he is very well hers.

He thinks that's pretty sexy.

"You're killin' me with the thinking," she whispered through sleep. "Why are you thinking?"

"Nothing," he smiled against her hair, "nothing."

"I said, _why_. Not _what_," she smiled, kissed his chest again and exhaled, "Is Abel, okay?"

"Sleeping," he assured her and pulled her close to his body. "Thank you."

She chuckled, wrapped her feet with his, "You'd think that was the first time my mouth was on you."

He wondered if she could feel the smile on his face, "Not what I was talking about, but I'll thank you again for that one."

"You okay?" she whispered softly. "Why aren't you sleeping? What are you thinking about? Why isn-"

"Shhh," he grinned. "Shhh, slow down. I'm fine. I couldn't sleep because I wanted to watch you sleep-"

She arched a playful brow, "That's weird. I wouldn't give up my sleep to watch you get yours," she joked.

"Yes you would," he told her softly. "You would and you've done it so much. The drinking and the hospital and-"

She squeezed his body, opened her eyes and looked up at him, "What's wrong? Why are you serious again?"

"Why did you stay with me, Liv?"

She cocked a brow again and smirked, "The sex."

He laughed and pulled her over his body, "I'm that good in the sac that you'd put up with my crap?" he waggled his brows jokingly.

She grinned down at him, slowly ducked her face to kiss his neck, "I put up with your crap, because… you put up with all of mine."

He rubbed her back with his hands, let his fingers walk here and there, rest and draw shapes against her body. His smile dissipated and he rolled softly so they were on their sides, facing one another, "Talk to me."

"I am."

His smile re-appeared and it was so light and full she didn't understand it and maybe that was what was so sexy about it. She kissed the corner of his mouth and exhaled a long breath, "El?"

"Hmmm?"

"I don't put up with you, you know that, right?" she asked tenderly. "You know that I'm so insanely in love with you that… you're never gonna get rid of me?"

He couldn't help it, "Is that a threat?"

She responded with a pinch along his ribs and a soft smile, "I'm… I know I'm a handful Elliot. I know I've always been, but-" she looked up at him and touched his lips gently, stopped talking.

"Liv?"

"Don't give up on me? On us?"

"As much as you tell me that…the thought has never crossed my mind. Never."

"Never?" she asked and rested her hand over his heart.

He held his hand over hers, "Never."

She grinned and even in the moonlight that flooded their room, it was sexy. "Why aren't you asleep?" she asked and propped her self up on her elbow.

"Talk to me? Tell me what's been on your mind?"

She blew out a breath and she had no idea where to start. "We… we haven't… I mean there's been so much in the past couple of weeks and we… haven't been able to talk."

Elliot slid his leg back over to her, hooked his foot around hers, "I know… which is sort of why I thought you might need to. I don't want you to get sick, Liv. I don't want you to push me away or think you have to go at this alone. I want you to talk, please?"

She furrowed her brows, looked at the space between them and shook her head, "I don't want to."

"Liv-"

"Shh," she smiled softly, cupped his cheek and kissed his lips tenderly. She pulled back only slightly, "I don't want to talk about anything, but… I'll talk about what ever you want to talk about."

He smirked, "Vivian is magic."

Her smile was tender, "Maybe."

"Want some hot chocolate? Cherry?"

"No… it's cold and I don't want to get up."

"I will… do you want it?"

"No," she shook her head and slid her leg between his. "Ask me."

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever you want," she said softly and grazed his flesh with her fingertips.

"Tell me," he whispered against her cheek, "about the laundry room… let's start there."

She grinned, pulled back and looked at him, "I thought we talked about it? I said I liked it."

'That's not talkin'," he teased, "That's just sayin'… I want to know."

"Know what?"

"Everything," he whispered and pulled her hand up to his mouth, kissing her fingertips, "I want to know everything. Don't leave out anything."

She smiled gently and gave him what he wanted. "I felt… safe."

"Safe? Just safe?" he asked and his face registered a touch of disappointment. "I thought… I mean, I'd hoped that you would have felt-"

"El," she cut him off softly. "I felt every emotion imaginable and despite it all… I felt safe. That was important to me, I needed to reconcile the two and you did that for me… I was safe."

"Anger?"

She licked her lips, shook her head, "Lil'bit."

"At me?" he asked and wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"At the situation," she confessed.

He dipped his brows in confusion and interest, "How so?"

"It was… right after you took the cuffs off-"

"Did I hurt you?" he cut her off, suddenly pained that he may have hurt her, that he may have missed a flash back she'd had and didn't confess.

Oh. No.

"Liv, oh, no. Liv," he shook his head, pleaded with God that it wasn't the case, "Liv, did you.. I mean,… did you have a flash back? I'm sorry, Liv. I'm so, sorry I didn't see it and stop-" he paused for a moment, took her face into consideration. "Why are you smirking?"

She smiled tenderly, "You didn't hurt me, no."

"I don't understand, then. Why were you angry?"

"I was angry," she confessed carefully, "that I'd missed out all of this time."

He was a little shocked to hear that. "Missed out?"

She bit her bottom lip, "Yeah… he made me afraid, El. Oliver made me afraid of being intimate and uninhibited… I was angry that I allowed him to take so much time from us."

He smiled, touched her check, "So… you liked it?"

She laughed out loud, covered her mouth so that Abel continued to sleep. She settled a light-hearted gaze on her husband and nodded, "Yeah. Very much."

"So," he smiled and rubbed her wrist with his finger tip, "if I wanted to cuff you again, you wouldn't resist arrest?"

"No," she grinned and kissed him warmly, "in fact… what's a girl gotta do to get arrested around here?"

His mouth fell open and his breathing stopped, "Wow," he laughed, "really?"

"Just don't scratch the head board."

He pulled back immediately and he was serious. "Head board?"

She smiled, wiggled closer to him and yawned against his chest, "Or we could do the laundry room again, but… it was cold."

"Head board?' he whispered to himself and wondered if she was telling him that she'd like to try it in their bed.

She knew what he was thinking. Knew what was racing through his mind, "It would be okay, with me," she assured him softly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Case," Paul whispered harshly, "Case, baby wake up," he demanded and flipped on the light to the room, "Casey, Robert's here and he's a mess."

"Paul?" Casey groaned and slowly sat up, her hand scrubbing over her face, "Paul? What is it?" she asked and slowly dragged herself out of bed to stand.

Paul smirked at his wife as she stood naked on shaky legs, "Wore ya out, did I?" he asked and gently held her at the waist, his warm hands sending goose-bumps along her skin.

"I think between you and old age… I didn't stand a chance," she grinned and touched his face gently, "Robert's here?"

Paul smiled sadly, "He is. He looks…" he shook his head and shrugged his shoulder slowly, "well, I've never seen him look this bad before."

She crossed her arms over her naked breast and huddled to keep herself warm, "Is… Alex by chance with him?"

Paul exhaled, turned and retrieved clean clothes for his wife, "No. No he said she found her, though."

"Where?" Casey demanded anxiously and slipped into a pair of jeans without worry of underwear.

"A motel just out of the city… where are you going?" Paul asked softly and handed her bra to her.

"I'm going to find Alex," she said matter of fact before adjusting her strap and slipping into a sweater. She raised her brow to her husband and announced, "And then I'm gonna kill her."

Paul chuckled softly, "Maybe you should wait? I can go with you and well try and talk some sense into her-"

"On thing you haven't learned about us women," she smiled and flicked her hair out of her sweater, "when we're being stubborn we just need our asses kicked."

He took a breath and wished he could slide inside of her again, wished he could hear his name fall from her lips. "Do you need some money?"

Casey nodded as she pulled on her shoes, "Please? I didn't go to the bank."

He moved to his jeans, pulled his wallet out and gave her what he had, "Be nice to her Casey… we don't know what's happening between them."

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"When I saw Oliver in the prison… I'm not sure what happened to me," Olivia confessed softly and carefully handed Elliot a cup of hot chocolate. He leaned back, widened his thighs and happily accepted her body next to his as they sat on the couch.

"Thank you," he smiled softly and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Didn't think I'd get you out of that bed."

She chuckled softly, "Hannah had to pee and I wanted to make you some chocolate. Not a big deal."

He smiled, kissed her neck before taking a small sip and grinning, "Cinnamon," he moaned in appreciation and let his tongue play on her skin, "I was fully expecting cherry."

She held up her own cup, "Its here, if you want it, just thought you were probably sick of drinking it because it made me happy."

He nipped at her throat, "Thank you, Olivia."

She rested her hand over his and let her head rest against him, "I'm not sure I wanted him to die, Elliot."

"It would be okay if you did, baby," he assured her softly, "after what he did to you, it would be okay if you felt that way."

"Is it ever okay to want someone to die?" she asked and immediately answered her own question, "I'm not sure, Elliot… I don't want to pass that to the kids, I don't want that to be the legacy I give them, hate."

"They love you, Liv."

"I know," she nodded and warmed her hands on the mug. "El?"

"Hmmm?" he murmured as he swallowed a sip of his warm liquid.

"When he asked me about Abel… my response wasn't my first thought."

He furrowed his brows, "You… you were pretty angry."

"I know… but that wasn't my first thought."

Elliot pulled the blanket from the back of the couch with his free hand and draped it over her body to keep warm, "What was it then, Liv?" he asked gently and tucked her free hand under the blanket and her top.

"Yes."

"What?"

"My first response was unequivocally… yes," she confessed and bowed her head, "I wanted Abel. I wanted him right there and if he'd been with Oliver during that time, I'd have walked out with him in my arms and I'd have been okay with that." He placed his mug on the coffee table, took hers and placed it next to his and hugged her tightly as she continued, "I'd have been okay with it. Wouldn't I have, El?"

"You're a good woman, Olivia."

She held his arms even tighter around her body, "You make me that way, Elliot. You make me want to… step up to the plate."

"That's what we do, Liv. We build one another up and we bring out the strong points in our personalities and occasionally, we drive each other nuts."

They chuckled with one another and his lips found themselves on the flesh of her neck again, "Liv?" he whispered gently.

"Yeah?"

"What made you change your mind in the prison? If being angry wasn't your first thought… what made it your second?"

She clamped her jaw, tried not to let her shame get the best of her. She swallowed, took too long to reply to him and instead held tightly to his hands and tried to get her breath. Tried to gather her words so she didn't sound as pathetic as she thought she did in her own head.

"Liv, you don't have to tell me," he soothed her and gently nuzzled her ear with his nose, "You don't have to talk about it right now. It's early, and you didn't get a lot of sleep and I'm sure you're tired. Rest. You don-"

"I thought if I accepted Abel… I'd give up my right to," she sniffed and exhaled a puff of breath. "This is so lame," she groaned.

He smirked at her personal debate, pulled her hair back and exposed her neck even more. Elliot closed his eyes, rested his lips at her pulse point and kissed her tenderly, felt her hand reach back and gently relax on his head, keeping him close to her. He felt her sigh, felt her body start to relax slightly more, "Rest, here in my arms, Liv. Go to sleep, it's okay, we still have some time before the kids have to get up to-"

"My right to have a bad day," she whispered so softly she hoped he'd missed it and she could say something else.

"Bad day?" he furrowed his brow in confusion, "We all have those, Liv."

"Yes, but," she exhaled, "Elliot… we both know that my bad days aren't typically about work or picking up dry-cleaning or anything like that. My bad days… land me in Vivian's office and-"

It dawned on him, "And you thought that by taking in Abel, the world would assume that you were okay with what happened, that you forgave him and moved on?"

She licked the tear from the corner of her lips and nodded silently, "I didn't want to give up that right. I can't. What if-I just… you know how I am sometimes, Elliot. I wake up and sometimes it's… too hard. Just for that day and I want-need to talk to Vivian or to you and… I didn't want to risk loosing those options for me to heal."

"Oh baby," he held her tightly and kissed the line of her jaw, "you don't have to give up that right. You don't. If you need to talk to us, then you do it, just tell me and we'll talk through whatever it is you need… you're not giving anything up. Nothing. I promise."

"It's been years now, El. Years and…I still dream about it sometimes."

He stiffened at her confession, tilted her face to look up at him, her big brown eyes, usually bright and focused on him or the children, now glassy, full of confusion and worry. "You never told me you still dream about it… when? When was the last time?"

She exhaled, looked away and tucked her face into his neck as she lay over him, the blanket over them. "Almost every night you were in the hospital, but more recently… when I was at that conference."

"How come you haven't said anything, Liv?" he asked without accusation.

"Sometimes… sometimes they're so blurry I can't really remember the details of the dream; just that I had it and it bothered me… and sometimes it's just seeing him in my dreams, but for the most part, it's nothing that totally whigs me out… or I guess that can be debated," she laughed humorously.

"Is Vivian helping you with it? Are you talking about it with her during your personal sessions with her?"

"I do. I do, Elliot," she assured him and raised up to look at him, "I'm okay," she nodded. "I am. Sometimes it just comes out of left field and it throws me off and… it frustrates me," she confessed and her tears welled up again before she hid her face in his chest again and sobbed.

"Hey," he whispered, "hey, come here. Let me see you?" he encouraged and was surprised when she wouldn't budge, but buried herself deeper into him and stayed there. He rubbed her back soothingly, "What frustrates you? The dreams?" he asked, wanting so desperately to understand where she was coming from.

She cried a little harder and he pulled her a little closer murmuring, affirmation and words of adoration until she calmed and turned her head, bent her neck to look up at him, "Sam asked me why he isn't better after all this time. He asked me why it hasn't stopped hurting."

He wiped softly at her tears, "And what did you tell him?"

She swallowed a sob and looked at her husband and while he's seen a lot of emotion in his wife's face before, he hadn't seen this look of pain since the day she laid with him on the couch of her apartment and let him feel her scars for the first time.

"I told him it would, _eventually_…. I lied to him Elliot. I _lied _to Sam," she shook her head almost in panic. "I lied to him, because it never goes away, it's always there. That little bit of hurt that little bit of knowing that you've been violated, that your dignity has been stolen from you. It never goes away," she repeated and wiped at her tears. "It stays with you and just when you think you've made it, just when you think you can say you've recovered from it… it hits you again. In a different way."

"With Abel?" he asked gently.

She bit her lower lip, shook her head as her tears sprang up again, "I was doing well, Elliot. I was good, and I'd been… wanting to try new things in bed and the dreams weren't as bad and-"

"Hey," he adjusted himself to a more comfortable position for the both of them and let her cry a little more before whispering gently next to her ear, "You know, this really beautiful woman told me one time, that the only way to loose your dignity, is to give it up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alex had given up on sleep, she knew just as easily as she'd given up on her marriage. If she thought those closest to her would see it her way, that she was doing what was best for her husband, she would tell them that. She would take the time to explain to them and to Robert that she can't come back to him because he deserves so much better than who she is.

An adulterer.

He needs someone who isn't contaminated, someone who isn't her.

She would tell Olivia, that she is still in love with him. That since the affair she has gone over and over in her mind what she could do to gain his forgiveness. Then again, she'd also tell her that she is well aware that she doesn't deserve it.

If she could get past the shame that she feels, if she could get past the regret and pride and disgrace that she feels, she would sit down with Robert and tell him that she was stupid. Ridiculous in her decision.

If she could get past all the confusion that she has as to why she walked away from the best thing in her life… she'd beg him for her forgiveness.

Alex took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling, she wiped at her damp cheek with the back of her hand and exhaled, then jumped when a knock landed on the door.

"Go away," she called miserably to the door and rolled over to her side.

The knock persisted and she hated the fact that Robert was back so soon. She needed him to stay away, to stay away and make this just a little easier. When the knocking continued, she very promptly grabbed a pillow and thrust it to the door, "I said go away!" she hollered and flopped back into the last pillow.

The knocking continued.

And she erupted.

"What the hell is your damn problem!" she yelled and flung back the covers of the bed sliding out and angrily stalking to the door prepared to rip her soon to be ex-husband's head off.

She opened the door immediately yelling, "What the hell part of-"

"Not quite the greeting I was looking for," Casey smiled small. Sad. Sad to see her friend in such turmoil, chaos.

Alex's nostrils flared, she shook her head softly not quite knowing what to do with this completely unexpected but definitely _wanted_ visitor. So, because she's learned very quickly how to pull the noose around her own neck, she simply closed the door. Turned the lock and slipped back into the bed to curl up into her own ball of despair.

"I can see my breath out here!" Casey yelled through the door. She slapped her palm against the wood again, "And in case you forgot, that means it's pretty damn cold out here, Alex."

When there was no answer she tried a softer approach. She rested her fingertips of the door, her head against the frame, "Look, Alex… we know something isn't right. But don't shut us out. Whatever it is, we want to be here for you. Alex… come on, open the door."

Casey waited a moment, tried desperately to listen for any sounds that would indicate her friend was getting up to answer the door again. To let her into this small world that she had isolated herself in. When there was nothing she crammed her hands into her pea coat and took a deep breath, trying desperately to keep the bite of the early morning cold away from her body. "I brought you coffee… the least you can do is open the door and get it."

She waited another long moment and wondered what would happen if Alex opened the door for the coffee only to discover her friend had lied to her to get her to open the door. To get her to show her face. Her friend lied to her to get her to come to grips with reality. Come to grips with what ever reality she was facing at the moment because, really, whatever it was, if he'd hit her, cheated on her, squandered her money, sold their home, lost their savings to the casinos… whatever it was, did she really think that she and Olivia would leave her alone to drown?

Alex stared up at the ceiling, the knowledge of one of her closest friends just feet away, the only separation, a cheap door, a flimsy lock. Her tears mixed with make-up that she wasn't sure what day she'd applied. It burned at her eyes but the burn wasn't nearly as bad as the ache in her heart.

The ache in her belly that was so deep, so agonizing that the only thing that could possibly alleviate it was death. If only for a few moments before she went straight to hell.

Adulterer.

Surely, there was no forgiveness for her, was there? Maybe, maybe she should have taken up Sam's offer to attend church, maybe she should have taken the offer and developed an understanding of forgiveness and what that entailed and met, so that when this day occurred, she could have a fighting chance at accepting her husband's forgiveness.

Maybe her own.

Because, surely her husband would forgive, that is simply what he would do. He would forgive her, try to figure out what he did wrong to make her heart loose its focus on him.

When her reason had nothing to do with him per se.

But everything to do with her, with God, with… life in general.

Adulterer.

Surely there could be no forgiveness for her. A whore.

"Alex!" the pounding started again and Alex sobbed into the last remaining pillow, streaks of mascara forming and adding contrast, adding sadness and sorrow to a place she no longer thought could handle more. She had to push her husband away so that he could find someone better. She has taken their son to her aunt's house because she can no longer look at innocent eyes asking where his daddy is.

And so now, as her friend pounds on the door of her cheap hotel room and demands her entry, she knows she must remain silent, push her away as well because one day she and Olivia will find out what she truly is.

Adulterer.

And they will walk away from her.

"Fine!" Casey yelled through the crack of the door, "Fine, you want to play this stupid game, Alex. You want me to stand out here and freeze, that's fine but in about an hour I'm gonna kick your ass!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Why were you upset the other day?" Elliot asked gently, her body still resting against his as the early morning rays highlighted their back yard, started to walk warmth into their home. Touched them. Caressed them. Just as he has been doing to her since their second cup of hot chocolate.

She rolled her eyes, scoffed, "Can you be more specific? I've been a complete basket case since, oh I don't know," she said sarcastically, "August."

He smiled, "We've had a lot to deal with. Isaac going to school and you having to let him go, I know how you must have felt Liv, 'cause I was just as scared to let him out of my sight, too."

She took a sip of her chocolate, nodded gently, "He's doing well, now… catching up and doing well."

"He is," Elliot agreed and let his hand continue to rub the bare skin of her abdomen, just under her shirt. "We had Sam's little melt down, and my little melt down," he chuckled in embarrassment, "and we've had good and bad stressors from our friends, that all comes with the territory, but I want to know why you were so angry with me at the bar-b-que."

She drew her lips in, bit hard on her bottom one and winced having momentarily forgotten about the split there until the pain shot through her flesh and her eyes instantly watered, "Why aren't you using your cane anymore?"

His brows shot up in surprise, "You change the subject about as well as Hannah does."

She wiped her face, put her chocolate down on the coffee table and turned, tucking her legs under her body and facing him. Putting distance between them.

Didn't she know he'd be cold without her?

She bowed her head, brought a throw pillow between the two of them and picked at it, busied her hands in order to calm her racing mind, "I can't… I can't talk about this with you, Elliot."

"What?" he shook his head, tried to clear out the fog that was setting in, "Liv… even if we have to pry it out of one another, we always end up saying what's on our minds… don't shut me out."

She groaned, the embarrassment flooding her features and causing her to turn into the safety of the couch, hide in its softness. Wish it was his chest. His comfort. "Elliot… some things… I don't know-"

"Liv… I know everything about you and I still love you, come on, nothing is gonna change that."

"You might love me," she muttered, "but you definitely don't want to sleep with me." She closed her eyes at the admission. Oh man. No. That was so not supposed to come out.

Ding ding ding. Round One.

He stared at her, momentarily taken aback by her confession. His eyes narrowed at her in brief anger but settled immediately at the pain on her face, the tension in her shoulders, the way she'd moved away from him moments ago. "Well," he nodded, "it's official. You really have lost your mind."

Her head snapped to eye him. "What the-"

"If you think that I don't want to be next to you every second of the day, you're out of your mind," he shook his head and stretched his legs out so that his feet rested on the coffee table, his arms folded over his chest. He exhaled, watched as the sun's curve started to become visible.

A long awkward silence hung between the two of them and she considered this, tried to remember the last time such a feeling occurred between the two of them and couldn't remember one that did, at least not one that could potentially do the harm this one could.

He wasn't saying anything and she could see the way his jaw was flexing. His nostrils were flaring and he was trying so hard to appear less than enraged at her ridiculous confession.

Because somewhere in her heart, in her cellular or muscular memory and her DNA or what ever it was that made her, her… she had to know that he wanted her, she had to know that he wanted her more than he wanted anything else in his entire life. She had to know. Didn't she?

She cleared the instability from her throat and pulled the pillow a little tighter as she stared at the couch cushion between the two of them, "You… I mean…," she cleared her voice again, fought to gather her words. "I… tried to… come onto you and you pushed me away."

His brow arched, trying to remember such an instance, "Did not," he said and he hated that he sounded like one of the boys in trouble.

"You had an erection, Elliot," she said softly, without accusation or malice.

He smirked and looked at her, "Which just proves you all wrong then, right?"

She swallowed nervously, pinched the bridge of her nose. "Not even close."

"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me… can you please clarify because I'm completely lost, I mean… one second you say I don't want you and the next second you're upset because I have an erection-"

She shook her head, "No. No, I wasn't upset that you had an erection, it's just that... ugggh, never mind. I have to get the kids up."

He blocked her exit with his leg and pulled her down into his lap, "Stay with me," he commanded gruffly, "Just stay."

She sniffled, stayed in his lap but kept her head bowed, her eyes anywhere but leveled with his, "What do you want from me, Elliot?"

He chuckled, smirked and rolled his eyes, "Are you kidding me? What do I want?" he laughed again and there was no anger in his expression, no it was humor. Pure humor.

"I'm glad you think this is so hilarious. I'm glad I could provide you with entertainment this morning-"

"Liv," he shook his head, tried his best to cover his smile, "I want you to answer my question as to why you were angry at the bar-b-que, and I want it answered truthfully this time."

"Fine," she shook her head, exhaled and puffed out her cheeks. "Fine, Elliot, you want it? Here it goes… I came onto you. You pushed me away. Ten minutes later you're standing in the shower with an erection the size of Florida and when you came out of the shower you were just all aglow," she told him somewhere between embarrassed and pissed that he insisted on knowing. "Happy?"

He stared at her, held her waist as she tried to squirm out of his lap. He watched her for just a moment longer before his lips curled into a smile and his chest heaved in laughter.

She pulled back, wrenched her wrist out of his hand and pushed herself away from him, opting for the other side of the couch again, "Jerk."

He laughed harder, "Liv. Oh Olivia," he held his abdomen as he laughed. "No. No baby you got it all wrong.

"I do not!" she spat back. "You're not interested in me Elliot. I get it, okay? I got the kiss on the cheek when you went to the station and I took the hint when you pulled away at the bar-b-que and I understand that you'd rather masturbate-"

"Stop! Stop you're killing me!" he chuckled and watched the rage build in her face, in her shoulders. He spun his body, pulled at her thigh and made her lay on the couch immediately covering her with his own before she protested. "Will you please just stop?" he grinned and looked down at her, pure laughter in his eyes, his voice.

She looked away immediately, hoped that by not looking at him, he wouldn't see the tears start to build again, he wouldn't know how much he'd just hurt her by laughing at the fact that he chose his hand over her body. Again. She felt his lips on her neck and a tiny sob escaped her control.

"Hey," he whispered and was suddenly more than serious. "Hey," he tilted her chin to look at him.

Her face might have been forced to look at him, but her eyes had all sorts of freedom to look wherever she wanted. He lowered his lips to her, wanted to kiss her gently to tell her she's all he's ever wanted but she turned her head and his lips caressed her cheek instead.  
"Liv?"

She sniffled, "You're right, El. It's all very comical."

He tipped her chin back to him and kissed her before she could turn away. He rested his lips against hers for a moment before gently pulling away, "Look at me when I tell you this."

"No."

"Look at me."

She nodded, "I said, no."

"And I said, look at me, Olivia," he told her and held her face so that she had no choice, lowered his forehead to hers and kept it there, "Look at me."

She sniffed again and her voice was so tiny when her eyes finally lifted and timidly locked with his, "What?"

The corner of his mouth twitched again in a smirk, his brows furrowed in seriousness, "I didn't masturbate Olivia."

She licked her lips, "You don't have to tell me that, Elliot. I'm aware that-"

"I didn't masturbate, Olivia," he smiled full. "I remember what you wanted to do just before the party and I didn't want to get you naked and under me and have guests filing in, so yeah… you touched me and I got excited… I took a shower and you better believe I wanted to masturbate but, I also remember what happened last time. I know it hurt you, Olivia… I'm not stupid enough to do it again…. I didn't do it. You're wrong."

She arched a disbelieving brow, "How do you explain walking out minutes later minus the erection and a look of total fulfillment? I know that look Elliot. I'm that one that gives you that look. Me. Don't sit here and –"

"You flushed the toilet on me, Liv!" he chuckled. "You flushed it and the temperature change was enough to kill the erection… and as far as 'the look'," he shrugged. "I dunno, maybe the thought of possibly being able to have you that night… got me a little more excited than I thought... I mean… while I was in the shower, I was thinking about, having sex with you against the wall while our friends were here. I'm sorry if it looked like I was satisfied.," he apologized lamely.

She groaned in embarrassment, covered her face with her hands, "This isn't happening."

He grinned and rubbed his hips into her body, "Oh yes it is."

She shook her head, "You weren't-"

"Nope," he smiled and bit his lower lip, "Can I get an apology?"

She closed her eyes again in humiliation, "Unbelievable."

"You owe me one, come on. Let's hear it," he teased, playfully.

She, without warning, pulled his head down and kissed him, let her other hand slip into his boxers and she completely cut out the foreplay and grasped him tightly. His weight falling to his forearm, "Liv!"

"Shut up," she whispered and rolled them both carefully on the couch until he was laying on his back.

"Liv, come on," he grinned up at her. She was far too serious and he wanted to tell her that it was okay, it was a misunderstanding but she'd already yanked, and he did mean, _yanked_ him out of his boxers and had him in her mouth. Again. For the second time in a few short hours.

Wow was all that registered in his mind.

He felt her hand just over his belly button, felt her thumb apply just the right amount of pressure and he moaned, his hips thrusting softly into her mouth, "A simple sorry, was all I was looking for," he panted out.

She let his hardening shaft leave her mouth and she looked up at him, "I said, shut up."

He wanted to tell her something else but felt her take him into her mouth again. To the hilt. And he very well thought he was going to pass out right there. She drug her nails down his ribs, softly at first, then hard enough that he whimpered and held her wrist as she continued sucking his body.

His free hand guided her again for the second time that morning and he swore if one of the kids walked in right now, he wouldn't be able to let her stop. He wouldn't be able to let her mouth leave him. "Liv-"

She stopped, pulled back and glared at him again.

"Right," he nodded and rested back against the couch until, he was aching in her mouth and struggling to let this last just a little bit longer because her lips on him was enough to kill him, sweetly.

She withdrew from his body, kissed the tip of him softy and nibbled lightly before letting her tongue tease him again until he covered his face with the throw pillow she'd been picking at and groaned her name, his hips thrusting at their own will and filling his wife's mouth again.

Why she always insisted on giving him pleasure when her pain was obvious was beyond him but he'd never argue with how good if felt. He let the pillow fall away and his stare was blank, exhausted, "Wow… See, Liv? That's what I'm saying. We'd of started that and you know full well Casey would have showed up or something."

She smiled and he felt like a jerk because her smile was still sad even as she helped him back into his clothing and laid next to him, a kiss on the corner of his mouth, "I" sorry."

"Forgiven," he sucked in a breath and exhaled. "Definitely, one hundred percent forgiven, in fact…" he pulled her immediately under his body and scooted down between her legs, "I'll show you my appreciation for your apology."

She was instantly nervous, "Elliot-" She squirmed and tried to nonchalantly close her legs. Prevent him from starting something that her body wouldn't allow her to finish.

"Shh," he grinned and his smile was so happy and so carefree she didn't have it in her to deny him this. Deny him the ability to make himself feel like he could reciprocate the feeling of total bliss when she knew full well that her body wasn't gonna allow it.

He'd been a lot more gentle with her than she had been with him but in a blink of an eye, he had her flannels off of one leg, her top pushed up to the base of her breast and she was trying every trick in the book to relax. To feel. To let him be her lover, to let them connect and experience the pure heaven that being together gives them. Her.

Typically. When her body isn't being a complete idiot.

His hands gently widened the cradle of her thighs and he kissed her flesh tenderly with his lips before trailing his tongue down and sliding gently down her center. She moaned, her head rolling to the side. She desperately needed this. Needed to come, needed to release the stress and tension her entire body was under. She needed to feel something other than worry.

He flicked his tongue over her core and watched as she hissed, her legs closed slightly around him and she called his name softly into the atmosphere. He smiled against her, her body preparing for him to be inside of her and while he wanted that more than anything, he was still recovering from her apology.

He felt her hand over the crown of his head, felt her leg drape over his shoulder and her foot rub his back, stretch to the globe of his butt and it completely spurred him on. He ran his tongue around her center before sucking gently and knowing that is what usually did her in. He waited until she pulled at his hair, waited for that raspy, almost silent scream she does when she's trying to come quietly.

Only, none of those things happened.

Yet, he wasn't deterred in the slightest from his mission. He continued his ministrations with his mouth and let his hand wander to her breast, her nipple was as hard as he was starting to get and he let his fingers lay claim.

The only problem was that, as ready as she was to explode, there was no explosion and he could feel it in her body that she was starting to see this as awkward.

It has secretly always made her a little frisky to have him in her mouth so as he continued to work diligently to make her come she was pulling out every memory possible, every moment she has dropped to her knees and felt his hands in her hair, heard his moans, felt his hips thrust into her mouth.

She remembered all of that.

And her body still kept her orgasm hostage.

She looked down, saw a tinge of confusion on his face and she knew he'd already done every move that usually makes her explode and implode all at once. This was not good.

She tightened her fist in his hair, groaned and arched her back, closed her legs over his ears and clenched her muscles. She panted, let her chest rise and fall frantically and was relieved when he sat on his feet and looked at her.

"Thanks," she whispered and hoped that the emotion that wanted to climb out of her throat wasn't noticeable. "That was just what I needed," _to feel like less of a woman, less of your lover_.

He was just about to tell her something when they both jumped at the sound of the house phone ringing. "Get it before the kids wake up," she told him urgently and he'd managed to grab the phone in the middle of the second ring.

"S-Stabler's. This is Elliot," he said and continued to look at his wife, his gaze casting confusion, suspicion and betrayal and everything else Casey had warned her about.

"Wait," Elliot shook his head, "What? Where?"

Olivia could hear the worry in his voice and fumbled to get her clothes on her body properly. She took the phone when he handed it to her, "This is, Liv….Are you sure?... Well, maybe- okay…okay, yeah, yeah, no I'll be there," she said and hung up, already standing and retreating to the bedroom to change.

She had just cinched the last shoelace to her tennis shoe and pulled on her coat in front of the front door when he'd startled her, "She'll be okay."

"I know," Olivia exhaled and pulled a scarf around her neck.

"We'll talk when you get back, then?" he asked and leaned up against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

She tied the scarf, occupying her mind with something other than the fact that he was trying to read her, trying to figure something out, the way he was standing so smugly against the wall told her she was in some very deep fecal matter. "'Bout what?"

He pushed himself off the wall and closed the gap between them, helping her with the scarf, making sure it covered her properly so she didn't get sick in the cold air of the early morning. He gently pulled her closer to him, kissed her mouth and let his lips linger there, "I'm not mad that you faked it, but I'd like to know why."

She pulled back, refused to look at him. She'd been caught. She rolled the dice, faked an orgasm and was immediately _caught_. She was so dead. Maybe not just yet, but she didn't know how long she would be gone. How long he would think it over in his mind and boil. She was so incredibly dead. She was rolled-over-with-a-tractor-trailer-_twice_, dead. She didn't have the guts to look at him. "I have to-"

"It's okay. Go. She needs you, I understand. I'm not mad. But, well talk when you get back?" he asked and gently moved to run his fingertips over her cheek.

She felt suddenly dirty; having lied to him and having him still treat her with love. She couldn't look at him, couldn't respond, and couldn't do much of anything. She knew she should wrap her arm around him. Apologize, tell him it was ridiculous, confess that she simply doesn't feel sexy and is struggling. She knew she should have done all of that and instead, she walked out the front door.


	20. Unthinkable

Silver Lining:

Chapter 20

Alex jumped at the knock again, "Are you serious?" she groaned and rolled over on the bed, "Casey, I swear if you don't leave me alone!"

The knock turned into a pound. A heavy one that perhaps meant, Robert was on the other side. Finally. He'd come back to talk some since into her and lucky her, she's was tired enough to listen.

The pounding kept going and she had a change of heart suddenly, she wouldn't go home with him. It wouldn't be good for him to have her as his wife, not when he doesn't yet understand the full consequences of taking her back home. He would always deserve so much more than her. They're marriage is ruined and she knows it is her fault. She knows it.

Alex stalked in sheer anger to the door, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Robert, I said go away," she shouted and turned the knob. "And if it's you Casey, leave me alone!" she commanded angrily as the door opened and she stared in shock.

"Casey says you won't let her in," Olivia smiled compassionately. "I was sort of hoping you'd let me?"

Alex scoffed, shook her head, "And to what do I owe the pleasure of the perfect wife and mother visiting me?"

Olivia furrowed her brow, smirked, "Perfect?" she shook her head. "Hardly."

Alex exhaled, "Whatever. I don't want you here. Bye," she said and promptly slammed the door in Olivia's face. Turned the lock and retreated back to her bed.

"So," Casey leaned against the window of the hotel, her jacket pulled tight against the cold "she's a little bitchy."

Olivia smiled softly, bowed her head and put her hands in her coat pockets, "You try coffee?"

"Threatened it… she didn't open the door."

"Mmm," Olivia nodded, her distraction with her predicament between her and her husband obvious.

"You okay?" Casey asked with a raised brow.

"Didn't you hear?" Olivia smirked and pointed at the door of the hotel, "I'm perfect."

Both women laughed softly and Olivia exhaled, "Come on, let's go get her some coffee."

"Coffee?" Casey questioned and slowly followed her friend, "you really think she'll open up for coffee?"

"Probably not, but I need some."

Casey nodded, "There's one down the street…. So on a scale of one-to-ten, how bad is it?"

"Don't know, Case," Olivia said softly and sniffled in the cold air, "she's shutting us all out."

"You're right," Casey acknowledged. "But, I was actually talking about the fight you had with Elliot."

"Fight? She feigned ignorance.

Casey laughed, "You're depleted," she nudged her softly. "You're tired and it's clearly written all over your face that you'd rather be at home fixing something than here."

Olivia exhaled deeply as they stopped in front of the small, hole-in-the-wall café and she leveled her gaze with her friend's, "Alex needs us. He understands that. We're okay, Casey."

"But you_ are_ fighting?"

"It's not a fight," Olivia assured her and made her way into the café, placed her order and waited on a stool, her head hung low.

"For it to not be a fight, you look like you had a fight," Casey said softly and gently touched her arm. "Want to talk about it?"

Olivia let long moments pass in silence and was thankful Casey let it be that way. She exhaled, "I'm so sick of talking," Olivia confessed and was relieved when the cashier motioned that their drinks were done. She took hers as Casey took her own and handed the third to Olivia.

"You might be sick of talking but I'm never sick of listening."

Olivia grinned and teased her friend, "'Cause you're nosey, Casey."

"Might be," Casey chuckled, "but I also care a little bit about you. You know? Us being friends and all."

Olivia chuckled, took a sip of her coffee and momentarily frowned at the absence of cherry, "Alex isn't making any sense. Her behavior, I mean."

"Either are you. Making sense, I mean," she teased softly and nudged her again as they made their way across the parking lot of the hotel. "Come on, Olivia, you know that Alex is gonna be hell in about five minutes, so how about you tell me what's up with you so we both have a fighting chance with her."

"Casey," Olivia shook her head in frustration and handed her the extra coffee, "I don't want to-"

"Olivia!"

"I faked an orgasm, Casey!" Olivia hissed, her eyes darting here and there to make sure no one heard her confession. "I faked it, okay? And he knows and I'm done. Alright?"

Casey's mouth formed a small 'O' before she collected her thoughts, "Olivia," she groaned, "I warned you, why did-"

In frustration with her situation and anger at her friend, Olivia threw her coffee across the cement, watched the brown liquid spill and seep into the cement cracks, "I know you warned me, Casey. I know you did. Okay? I get it. I screwed up," she spouted, her hands scrubbing her wind-chilled face before she stuffed them back in her pockets and exhaled.

Casey slowly wrapped her arm around her friend's shoulders, "He know, huh?"

Olivia nodded, her lips tightly pressed together trying not to cry, "Called me on it. Right after."

Casey winced, "He's pretty angry?"

"No," Olivia exhaled, "not angry, just… hurt. Because, that is apparently what I do best."

"Stop feeling sorry for your self. You messed up. Did you guys get to talk it out or did- oh man, did this happen when I called?"

Olivia nodded, "Yeah." She exhaled quickly, "Casey, look can we just go and deal with Alex, right now? Please?"

"No," Casey shook her head, "No. No you sat on a bridge with me one day and made me see straight, I think I can reciprocate… I've, uh… had a little experience in being caught."

Olivia turned and looked at her friend, "I know… you warned me, remember?"

"What's going on?" Casey asked gently and offered her own cup of coffee to her chilled friend.

Olivia took it with a bashful, small smile and let the liquid warm her hands, her insides, "I don't… feel right, Case."

She raised a brow, "Huh?"

Olivia groaned the embarrassment flooding her features.

"Olivia, come on," Casey encouraged, "I'm seriously not trying to be nosey. If I can help you… I want to."

She looked down at the coffee in her hands, caught a glimpse of her wedding set and smiled gently before her smile faded back into a worried frown, "It's getting worse."

"What is?" Casey shook her head, "What?... The sex?"

Olivia picked at the rim of the paper cup and slowly began to unravel the it, "Not exactly, I mean, Elliot is always good," she smirked, "but… it's… _me_. It's getting worse and I didn't want him to feel like, he was bad, so… I faked it."

Casey took the confession apart in her mind, tried to piece it together, "Elliot's having a blast and you can't come?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "You make him sound like a total jerk."

"I know he's not, I know," Casey admitted, "But… you're still having trouble?"

Olivia nodded softly, "Yeah, and no matter how much I try… I can't communicate it to him-"

"So you dug your own hole? Very nice," Casey couldn't help but tease.

"If it wasn't for the fact that this coffee is keeping me warm, I'd pour it on you," Olivia smirked and grew serious, "We… were fooling around and… he did everything that would typically send me over the edge and nothin'. I got nothin'," she confessed miserably."

Casey nodded, "Are you feeling pressured? Sometimes that throws things off, I mean-"

"Elliot doesn't pressure me," Olivia assured her. "He's really… he's always been very appropriate with me, Casey. You don't have to worry."

"Not worried," she smiled and took her cup of coffee, taking a sip and handing it back. "When you're making love to him… what are you thinking about?"

Olivia furrowed her brow, stared at her friend, "What do you usually think about when you make love to Paul?"

"Depends," Casey responded seriously, "when we were first married… that's when I got into trouble, I think I faked ninety-eight percent of my orgasms-"

Olivia's mouth dropped, "Casey, I-"

"Yeah, pretty pathetic, huh?" Casey laughed lamely. "I thought about everything except what I should be thinking about… Paul didn't stand a chance against legal briefs and shopping lists but, as you know, that was only the start of our problems," she chuckled with pure humor on her face.

Olivia smiled gently, "its good you can laugh now, Casey."

"We've worked hard," Casey admitted, "And I don't know maybe… maybe our separation made us realize we really did want each other. Want to know something odd?"

"Will it make me feel better?"

"It'll let you know you're not the only weirdo," Casey laughed.

"I'm game," Olivia lifted her brows and dropped them, "tell me."

"Remember when Paul asked me to dinner? You and Elliot had just played match maker, remember?"

"Yeah, I seem to remember you telling me you slept with him… and on the second date. You're easy," she joked.

Casey grinned, "Well, it was worth it… whoever said make up sex was amazing wasn't lying, I still don't think I've ever come that hard in my life."

Olivia laughed, shook her head, "Too much. Too much. No more."

"Yeah, but you feel better, right?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Sort of, yeah."

"Then… why don't you tell me what you think about?"

Olivia shrugged lazily, "I don't know, stuff."

"Like what?"

"Um, the day, I guess. What I need to get ready for the kids. Abel. The prison. Just… stuff."

"And by prison I assume you mean, Oliver?"

Olivia thumbed her brow, "Lately, yeah. But, Casey you can't say that that is the cause, because I've been struggling before that too, it just wasn't near as bad."

"Then what else are you thinking about?"

Olivia scoffed, "Whether or not I'm gonna come. If we're gonna have an argument because I didn't come. Is he gonna be upset or hurt? I think about…I dunno."

Casey arched a brow, very aware that her friend was going to finish her confession and suddenly stopped. "You know…. What else?"

"Case," Olivia groaned.

"Look, you're gonna have to tell him what's on your mind which means you need to be able to get it out, because I know you and you're gonna be mortified to have to tell him you're having a hard time with this… think of me as practice. A dry run."

Olivia dropped her shoulders, "Nice choice of words, Casey."

She chuckled, "Sorry, didn't mean anything buy it, I'm just saying… you were going to finish and you stopped, just get it out."

Olivia's face flushed and she picked at the cup in her hand again, "I think my body is… not right. It's not like when we first met, you know?"

"Yeah, I know… it must be a terrible terrible curse to have killer abs, a nice rack and great butt, it just… it must be rough," she deadpanned.

"Okay," Olivia smiled tightly and moved to their friend's door, "we're done here."

"No," Casey laughed and touched Olivia's forearm, "come on, I was giving you a complement-"

Olivia's non believing glare was focused on her friend.

Casey shrugged, "In a round about way."

Olivia exhaled and leaned up against the stucco wall of the hotel she knew Alex to be in, "When he's making love to me, I'm… worried about… cellulite and scars and my boobs flyin' everywhere and… it's just-" she exhaled and thudded her head against the wall, "I feel completely _not_ sexy. At all."

"Did you tell him that?"

She exhaled, "He'll take it personally, like I'm telling him he's not paying me enough attention and that's not the case. I put a lot on his shoulders as it is, I don't want to add more."

"Those the only reasons?" Casey asked and looked down at the spare coffee, "I think this is cold, now."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Casey, I already get the pleasure of pure embarrassment when I get home… and I'm glad it's cold. At this point she doesn't deserve hot. She's being difficult."

Casey grinned, "'Cause you were easy?"

Olivia smirked, "And you were a bed of roses Ms. I'm-gonna-jump?"

Casey laughed and knocked on the door, heard something hit the door from the other side.

"She's throwing stuff?" Olivia asked and nodded, "Huh, must be really pissed off."

"I've been here since five."

Olivia arched her brow, "Lucky she didn't shoot you," she teased and made a fist, pounding on the door.

"WHAT!" Alex yelled, opening the door and squinting against the light, "I said go away!" she hollered at them both and attempted to close the door again.

"Not so fast," Olivia commanded abruptly, stepping into the door, her foot and hand blocking it from closing. "Open it, Alex!" she demanded and felt her friend pushing the door to keep her out of the hotel, "Casey, a little help," she groaned, putting her weight against the door to keep her body from being caught.

Casey leaned into the door, "Come on, Alex. Stop it, damnit!" she said and pushed with Olivia.

"Get out!" Alex commanded again before being pushed back by the two determined women.

"Damn you guys!" Alex shouted, her fist at her sides, her eyes red with every emotion one could think of. She covered her face in shame and exhaustion and her voice quickly died, "damn you," she whispered hoarsely and sat on the foot of the tussled bed.

"You have got to be the most difficult person, Alex," Olivia said as she closed and locked the door.

"Please, go away," Alex begged, her head hung low before she cupped her face in her hands and sobbed, her body shaking violently until both women sat on either side of their friend and held her tight.

"Now why would we do that?" Olivia whispered and gently ran a soothing hand over her back.

"Robert is a-"

Alex cried harder at the mention of her husband's name and hid her body into Olivia's as both women continued to comfort her. "I don't want to talk about him," Alex cried, "I really don't. Please?"

"He's worried about you, Alex and to be honest… so are we," Olivia said softly, "Come on. Tell us what's happening between you guys and we might be able to help you out a little."

Alex straightened, wiped at her tears, "It doesn't matter how worried he is… we're not fixable," she rasped and broke at her own confession. She'd hoped it wasn't true. She really did, but she also knew he'd never take her back, not once he knew.

"I takes work, but… relationships are always fixable, Alex," Casey assured her and squeezed her shoulder gently, "What happened?"

Alex stood, tried to get some distance from the love they were shrouding her with, "Nothing happened," she shook her head and turned to see their expressions. Turned to gauge rather or not they were buying her bull.

They weren't.

Olivia shook her head, trying to make since of what was happening, "Alex, I know we've asked you but… did he hit you?"

Alex bit her lip, shook her head, "No."

"Thomas?" Casey asked grasping at straws.

Alex swallowed a sob, "No. No he wouldn't do that."

Olivia stood, used proxemics to get what she wanted. To get her friend to break so she and Casey could help piece things back together. Give her some perspective. "Then what is it, Alex? Come on?" she encouraged and gently rubbed her friend's biceps as she kept her back to their questions.

"I can't, Olivia. Please?"

"Alex, let us in," Casey whispered, "we want to help."

"You can't help!" Alex yelled, "Alright! You can't help! So get the hell out!"

"Alex!" Olivia pulled her to face them, "What is going on! What did he do? Tell us!" she demanded. "Let us help you!"

"I had an affair!" she blurted, pushed her friend away and glared at her. "Sure you still want to help?"

Olivia will never understand why someone chooses to walk away from their vows but what she does understand is confusion and loneliness and shame. "Did you think we wouldn't?"

Alex pawed at her cheek, scoffed, "Give me a break."

"I tried to give you coffee," Casey smirked, "and you got all grouchy on me."

"Shut up, Casey," Alex whispered and leaned up against the wall, "please? Everyone just shut up and leave me alone."

Casey thought about it, raised her brows in consideration, "What do you say, Olivia? Leave her alone?"

Olivia smirked, "Not a chance."

Alex's eyes watered and she covered her face sobbing as she let her body slide down the wall in defeat. The fact that they hadn't walked out the door and on with their lives had scared her just as much as it relieved her to know that she wouldn't be alone. They would help her. They would get her through this… until they found out everything and decided that they really needed to go. "Please, leave me alone," Alex begged, "Please just let me be," she whispered and took in a ragged breath before sobbing all over again.

Casey and Olivia joined their friend on the floor, their knees pulled up to their chests, their hands on Alex's back trying to bring comfort, "We're not judging you, Alex," Casey assured her, "we're not."

"We just want to help you," Olivia soothed. "That's all. Just help."

Casey stood, retrieved the now cold coffee and sat back next to her friend, offered the coffee, "Here. Had you been less stubborn it'd still be warm."

"Casey," Olivia admonished softly, "lighten up."

"Just playing," Casey smiled and nudged her friend gently. "Go ahead, Alex. Take some."

"That coffee?" Alex asked and sniffled, wiped at her face again.

Casey looked at the cup, shrugged, "Yeah, here. Have some."

Alex erupted with another flood of emotion and shook her head, pushed the coffee away, "I can't."

"What?" Olivia furrowed her brow, "Alex, come on. It's early, we know you haven't eaten, drink some."

Alex hunched over, rested her forehead on her knees and wept bitterly. She covered the back of her head with her palms and cried harder then she had since the two women had been there, "I can't drink the coffee," she hiccupped.

"Okay," Olivia shook her head, "Fine, you want warm coffee, we'll take you to eat breakfast, come on."

"No," she shook her hidden head, "I can't have the coffee," she said and cried even harder.

Olivia and Casey looked at one another in confusion and both shook their heads, "Alex," Olivia said softly, "you love coffee, come on… take some… it's just coffee."

"I can't have it!" Alex yelled against her legs.

"Why!' Casey asked in exacerbation.

"Because I'm pregnant!" Alex yelled, refused to look up, couldn't.

Casey opened her mouth to say something that Olivia knew would be a joke at the wrong time and quickly reached over and placed her palm over Casey's mouth, hugging Alex with her free arm, "Which means," she said softly and lowered her hand from Casey's mouth when she knew Casey understood that she couldn't joke. Not about this. "You really do need to get some food in you, come on. Let us take you."

Awkward and painful moments passed as Alex sat weeping into her own body, her friends sitting next to her trying with all they had to mask their shock as Casey rested her hand on her thigh, Olivia's hand on her back. Alex's voice was full of exhaustion and pain and terror as she tried to choke out a few words, "Why aren't you asking?" she sniffled.

Olivia gave Casey a look that told her not to say anything, that sarcasm and teasing wouldn't help her right now, "Because," Olivia whispered and gently encouraged her to raise her face and look at her, "it's none of our business… if you want breakfast, we're paying," she said softly and ran her hand over her matted hair, "but you need a shower, get yourself pulled together a little bit and we'll wait out here, huh?"

"I don't know what to do."

"Wash with soap," Casey told her and bumped her shoulder with hers, "put a little shampoo and conditioner on the hair and you're good to go."

In spite of everything, Alex laughed softly, the corner of her mouth lifted and fell in the same second. She shook her head, "I don't know what to do."

Olivia stood, offered her friend her hands and a compassionate smile, "Come on, we'll help you out."

Hesitantly, Alex placed her hands in Olivia's and trusted her friend to pull her up.

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"Why are you taking me out?" Robert asked miserably.

"First of all," Elliot smiled and adjusted Abel in his arms, "you and I are not, and I repeat, not dating, therefore; I'm not taking you out… I'm asking you to join me for breakfast," Elliot said and opened the door to the small diner.

Both men slid into a booth that a young waitress led them to and Elliot carefully placed Abel over his shoulder as he slept. He supported him with a large hand and looked over the menu with the other, "You look like you wife left you," Elliot mused.

Robert scoffed, "Thanks… why are you doing this, man?"

Elliot looked up at him, twitched his lips and exhaled. He'd been furious at his friends for not supporting him when he and Olivia separated. He'd been hurt and made to feel unimportant. He'd ached for company that didn't condemn him. Didn't blame him for his wife leaving. He'd simply wanted someone to sit with him, keep him company. When he realized they were never going to come, never going to be a comfort to him in his loneliness, he'd bought a fish, kept it in Isaac's room and sat there daily, talking and muttering to the fish, telling it secrets. Crying.

He'd felt entirely isolated and never wanted another person to ever feel that ache.

"'Cause I'm hungry," Elliot shrugged, "I'm hungry and I figured, you'd probably be hungry and if you thought I could handle an infant on my own-"

"Stop," Robert exhaled and shook his head. He slouched and leaned back, stared at nothing. "She won't have anything to do with me."

Elliot took his confession into consideration as he placed his order, ordered for Robert who didn't seem at all interested in ordering for him self. The waitress departed with the menus and Elliot gently rubbed his son's tiny back, "Robert," Elliot began carefully, "Alex is a good fried of ours and I love her like family, but… what are you protecting her from?"

Robert's head snapped to attention, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gently, Elliot placed his lips against Abel's ear, kissed him gently, took in his scent and let it calm him, let the perfect boy in his arms, calm him, "Look," Elliot said softly, "Olivia and Casey have been trying to talk to Alex and she wont budge, that's unusual for those three… and you," Elliot shrugged, "I don't know, you're taking the blame a little too easily. Letting people infer what they want."

Robert ran his hand through his hair, "So what? What's all that supposed to mean?"

"Look," Elliot said softly, "The boys are at school, I dropped the kids at the gym's daycare. I've got time, man. You don't have to keep protecting h-"

Robert slammed his fist against he table, the silverware jumped, the water splashed out of the glasses and tiny Abel instantly began to fuss, "I'm not protecting her!"

Elliot nodded in disbelief, adjusted Abel and now cradled him along his forearm before draping a blanket over him and letting him grasp his large finger, instantly quieting him, "Okay. Well, I hope you like pancakes," he nodded as the waitress lowered the plates of food between them and quickly left.

Robert stared down at the plate and bowed his head unwilling to let another man see him cry. Again. "She's gone."

"You can get her back," Elliot encouraged him, "you can. It'll take work, but whatever happened, trust me. It's always fixable."

"How can you say that?" he asked quietly, making no motion to wipe his tears.

"Liv and I… we fixed things. We still fix things," he confessed softly. "It's always fixable… if you want to fix it."

Robert looked at Elliot pleadingly, "How can you tell me it's fixable, when I've asked her to come home, I've forgiven her" he began to cry, his hand splayed over his chest as if protecting his heart from further disaster. "How can you tell me it's fixable, when she won't forgive herself and come home to me?"

Elliot furrowed his brows, ran the pad of his thumb over Abel's tiny fingers, "She had an affair?"

Robert stared blankly at his food, "She's a good woman."

"Never said otherwise," Elliot assured him. He'd kill anyone who said something negative about Olivia, no matter what she'd done. He'd give another man the same respect he'd want.

"I want her home so bad," Robert confessed in misery. "I want her home and… she's not there."

"Have you told her that?"

He nodded and wiped at his face, took in a deep breath and tried to gain a little composure, "I haven't slept man. I can't eat. I miss her."

"You're not angry?" Elliot asked in blatant curiosity.

"Of course I am," Robert admitted, "but… she's my wife, man. I stood in front of people and I promised her that I'd be with her no matter what and I fully meant it. I'm not an idiot, I knew what those vows meant and I knew that marriage was work and pain and bliss all rolled into one, but… she's worth the pain, man. She is. Sometimes, I… I'm so pissed off at her that I want to sign the divorce papers and be done with her-"

"Divorce papers? Already?"

"She moves fast when she's loosing control," Robert smirked softly. "But the point is, that even though I feel that way, I still remember the day I first met her, and I remember the first time I made love to her and I remember all of the firsts and… it outweighs and indiscretion… doesn't it?"

"She's very lucky to have you," Elliot told him. "Most men… well, we might not be thinking as clearly as you are right now if we were in your shoes."

Robert shook his head, "I just… want my wife back, man. That's all. I don't care what I got to do to get her, I just… I want her."

"You could make love to her again?" Elliot asked and immediately shook his head at his insensitivity, "I'm sorry, that was-"

"I could," Robert nodded and considered his admission. "We'd… I mean, we'd have a lot to work through, before that happened but," he shrugged his shoulders. "If you were in my shoes, would you take Olivia back? Cold you make-"

"Yes," Elliot nodded and it surprised him slightly that he didn't need to think about it, as if he'd already, long ago made the decision that if she ever strayed he'd take her back. They'd work through it and he'd move over her so she'd never remember whoever had touched her.

Robert smiled sadly and looked out the window of the diner, "A couple of shmucks we are."

Elliot looked down at his son and smirked, "You're in love with her, if you can forgive her and move on. Then there's nothing wrong with that. We'll support you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Think she'll be okay?" Casey asked before slowly shutting the door of the hotel room and huddeling into her body.

"I don't know, Casey," Olivia confessed, buttoning her jacket and fixing her scarf, "I think we should just let her get some sleep. She cried more than she ate."

"Yeah," Casey nodded and assessed her friend. "Are you going to be okay?"

Olivia smirked, shook her head, "Yeah," she told her in a less than convincing tone. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Why don't you do something different, huh?" Casey asked, rubbing Olivia's arm briskly.

Olivia laughed miserably, "I'm pretty sure it's not the positions that makes me feel like a blob of gross."

Casey smiled gently, "I actually wasn't talking about sex-"

"There's a first," Olivia puffed out a breath and smiled.

Casey held her hand, "Look at your nails, Liv… come on, you've been working and working and worrying and worrying and thinking about everyone else. I'm saying do something different, stop trying to save money by having Elliot trim your hair-"

Olivia grinned, "Believe me, Casey, it's not about saving money."

Casey laughed, "You got your credit card?"

Olivia arched her brow, "Yeah, why?"

Casey smiled, nodded towards the hotel room, "I think she's gonna be out for awhile… let's go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Isaac struggled with the vacuum. It was way bigger than he was but he'd moved rocking chairs by his self before he was four. What's the big deal about a vacuum? He slowly untangled the chord, found that it was still tangled and worked on it a little more before finally deciding there was enough slack in the line and he could plug it in and vacuum the carpet like his father had asked him to do, for his mother.

He really didn't want to do it. Sammy's watch told him that Spongebob was gonna be on pretty soon and he'd done his homework, right after school today, crazy fast so he didn't miss it. But his father had asked if he'd like to help his mother smile and he was on that like he was on the computer games at school. Quick.

"Ah, stupid!" he groaned when he'd stretched the entire chord to the wall and came up shy. He moved back to the vacuum and pulled on the handle, lugging it closer to the wall.

He'd finally plugged it and was ready to vacuum the carpet.

But… how exactly did mom do that, anyway?

Isaac looked at the machine, sort of remembered that she'd stomped on side of it so she could hold it in her hand and chase him and the monsters with it. That was crazy good fun when she played with them like that.

How many days has it been since mom played with them like that, anyway?

He stomped his small tennis shoe against the base of the vacuum and was disappointed when nothing happened, "Hmm," he assessed the situation and squatted for a better look. He pushed on the light box and nothing happened, pushed the wheels and nothing started up, but, "What's this?" he muttered and pushed a grey button.

The column of the vacuum cleaner immediately collapsed away from him and collided with an end table. Isaac cringed, willing the picture frame to stay on the counter. When it did, he exhaled, looked around to see if anyone witnessed the incident.

"Heard that," Sam laughed from the hall, "break mom's stuff and you're a gonner."

"Ah, Sammy!" Isaac groaned, frustration setting in. He was gonna miss Spongebob, "Shut your hole!"

"Your manners suck!" Sam laughed harder and picked up a load of dirty clothes made his way to the living room and stopped, felt around for the mishap. "You got to be smarter than the vacuum," he teased.

"It's browken!" Isaac chirped not quit understanding the insult but knowing his brother was teasing him and he had to get the last word in.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked and felt gently along the side of the machine, his fingertip met the small rise of plastic and he pushed the button.

Isaac startled at the sound of the vacuum suddenly coming to life. He'd jumped back from his squat and promptly fell on his back a small shriek coming out of his mouth. "Butt head!"

Sam chuckled and walked past him to the laundry room, "You scream like a girl!"

"What's the commotion about?" Elliot asked as he made his way into the living room, a wastebasket in hand, "Come on boys, let's get this place clean so mom can relax tonight."

"Yeah," Solomon grinned from behind Elliot, struggling to keep the bathroom's wastebasket in his arms, "for my Mommer," he said and looked at his dad for help.

Elliot promptly took the basket from him, "Thanks my boy."

Solomon grinned, "Come on Nanah!" he called and waited until he saw her, he motioned her with his arm, "Come on."

Hannah promptly followed her brother, their mission, laundry assistants to Sam.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot grinned down at Abel and held the bottle for him, "You are too cool," he marveled and watched as his son slapped at the bottle, drank from it quickly, "You eat like a Stabler, no doubt," he whispered and rocked softly in the office chair, opting for the quiet while Isaac wrestled with vacuuming.

He looked at Olivia's desk and he exhaled. "Your mother has so much work to do," he chuckled and looked down at him again, "you sort of threw us a curve ball, finding us" he admitted and smiled at the infant's moans of satisfaction, relaxation and perfect trust.

"I'd help your mother with this mound of paperwork, but uh," Elliot chuckled, "me and money…. Probably not the smartest combination, I'm pretty bad at it," he smirked. "You'd better thank mom when you get to college my man because I can assure you it won't have anything to do with my budgeting skills."

Abel turned away from his bottle, smacking his lips and turning his head to look around the room. "Wow, getting milk all over," Elliot laughed and placed the bottle on the desk moving too quickly to wipe his son's chin and the bottle tumbled back, the nipple leaking on papers, "Uh oh," he laughed again and adjusted his son over his shoulder. "Your mother would kill me if I messed up the paperw-"

Elliot stilled, a small bundle of papers out of place amongst the financial paperwork that littered the desk. He patted Abel's back, absently listening for a burp as he furrowed his brows at the paper. He doesn't typically go through her things. And if it's on her desk, it's 'her things'.

Slowly, he reached out to see what the papers were and immediately pulled back.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" Elliot jumped, the feeling of being caught tightening his voice, "Sam? Yeah? What's up?"

"We're done, can we have pizza now?"

Elliot smiled, leaned back and continued to rock Abel, ""Dishes?"

"Finished," he nodded, "little difficult with one hand, you know?"

Elliot shrugged, "Seems like a natural consequence… how's that wrist anyway?"

"Hurts a little but not as much. The pills still help."

Elliot nodded, "Bet you'd like to know what your punishment is, huh?"

"The thought crossed my mind about a million and forty times, yeah," Sam deadpanned.

"Well it'll have to cross it another couple of thousand, we haven't thought of an appropriate way to ruin your life yet," he chuckled and continued to rock Abel.

"Nice dad. Thanks."

"No problem. You get to talk to mom yet?" he asked, his tone much softer.

Sam nervously shifted on his feet, "No. Not really. She's too busy for me, right now. Maybe some other time."

"You know?" Elliot stopped rocking the chair and assessed the worry on his son's face, "She would absolutely take time out for you."

"I know… maybe…maybe I just haven't really thought about what I want to say."

"Fair enough," Elliot smiled softly, "Maybe on your walk this Saturday?"

Sam nodded, "Maybe."

"Good. Laundry?"

"Check, and the trash is dumped and Isaac finished vacuuming and the rooms are cleaned and there are fresh towels for mom to take a shower."

Elliot smirked, "Dusted?"

"Dad!" Sam grinned, "Probably not the best idea for me to dust."

"Why not?" Elliot asked, "Your mother does it?"

"Yeah," Sam laughed, "but I can't actually _see_ the dust."

Elliot had forgotten about that detail, "Right." He blushed, "Have Isaac do it."

"Can't actually _reach_ some of the dust."

"Solomon?"

"Wants to _draw_ in the dust."

"Hannah?"

"Doesn't really _care_ about dust."

Elliot smiled, "So you're saying _I_ should dust?"

"Sight and height dad," Sam smiled "Sight. And height."

"Go order the pizza," he laughed.

"On the Visa?"

Elliot's brows arched, "It's scary that you know the numbers by heart… I better not see a ring or something on my bill for Crystal."

Sam blushed, "Dad."

"Just sayin'," Elliot teased, "Get bread sticks and this time don't forget,"

"Kay," Sam agreed and walked back to the kitchen to make the call.

Elliot's focus returned to the pamphlet and he casually moved the top papers away. His brow met his receding hairline at what he'd found, "What the…" he let his voice fall as he looked at the pamphlet with one hand, "Breast augmentation?" he muttered and flipped through it, careful of Abel in his arms.

His eyes narrowed, widened, his face cringed and twisted at what he'd found, the pictures and incisions. Sizes? Drips? And perhaps the scariest of all, his wife's handwriting. She'd circled something that he deduced to be a breast lift and written notations about her body in the margin.

The only problem was they were all wrong.

She'd described her breast as unattractive and lopsided, sagging even. But that couldn't be right because he has had his hands and mouth on her breast for years and they have always been full and perfect, designed to be cupped by his hand.

_I want a damn boob job!_

He tossed the pamphlet aside and groaned. She'd made mention of her breast, questioned him as to what he thought about them. She'd put the dress that he bought her on and then took it off, dissatisfied with her body. But that had been weeks ago. He picked up the other pamphlet and stopped breathing.

Vagioplasty.

_And I'm thinking about vagioplasty too!_

He stared at the cover, tried to take in how official and friendly it looked on the cover, but he turned the page and couldn't imagine that his wife would pick something like this up and bring it home to look at.

Laser?

Symmetry?

Stronger orgasms?

"What's going on with you?" he muttered and tossed the pamphlet back. Wiped his hands on his thigh as if he'd been contaminated.

He held his son a bit tighter and tried to process the information. She's questioning her body. But he has always responded to her, always told her how amazing she looked. How sexy she was. Because she was amazing, she was sexy. Is.

He remembered her outburst when he was in the shower, she'd confessed she wanted a boob job but couldn't articulate why and before he knew it, she'd been announcing plans for vagioplasty. What in the world was he missing?

And then it dawned on him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mommy!" Hannah grinned and slid off of the kitchen chair just as soon as she'd heard the front door open.

"I'm home," Olivia called into the house and then muttered, "way too late, but I am here."

"Mommy!" Hannah giggled and threw her body into her mother's legs, "I missded you!"

Olivia grinned, let her bags fall off of her shoulders as she picked up her daughter and rested her forehead against hers, "I missed you too, Hannah-girl."

"Wha' you do to yous hair mommy?" she asked and ran her eager hands over it.

"Like it?" Olivia asked, tickling her tummy.

Hannah grinned and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, "No story 'dis morning."

Olivia walked with her into the living room, "Missed it, didn't I? I'm sorry baby, I had to go help Aunt Alex."

"Mommer!" Solomon yelled from the end of the hall just as soon as he'd seen his mother. He ignored his father's instruction to stay in the restroom but he ran his naked body to his mother, wanting so desperately to hug her and play with her and tell her all about the things they did to help her today. He wanted to tell her he was a big boy and washed clothes and helped Sammy with the trash when the bag broke and he had to pick it up outside. He wanted to tell her all of that because just seeing his mother made him the happiest little guy on the planet.

Olivia turned just in time for him to hug her thigh with all his might and smile up at his mother, "Hi Mommer!"

"Hi," Olivia grinned and gently turned him back around, "sister is right here. Go get clothes on."

"But-"

"Now, please," she told him and raised her brow.

He furrowed his own brow, stuck out his lip, "But I wana say hi," he pouted and walked sadly back to the bathroom, crying by the time he arrived for his father to help him into his pajama's.

"You makded him sad?" Hannah asked with a curious face, "how come?"

Olivia exhaled, that had not been her intention. "Honey, what did you do today?" she asked, trying to divert her daughter's curiosity.

She giggled, "Playded ball with Nikki."

Olivia's brows raised, "You went to the gym to see Nicole?"

"Uh huh, 'cause daddy wanted to say hi to Unckie Robbie."

Olivia's eye's bulged, "Really?"

"Yeppies," she laughed, and pointed down the hall, "Solo!"

Olivia turned to see her son walking sadly across the hall to his room, he'd pawed at his tears and stopped to look at his sister. He saw her. In his mother's arms where he wanted to be and he cried hard, his little legs running as fast as they could until he climbed into his bed and buried his perfect face into his pillow and cried.

Olivia lowered Hannah, "Want to go find, Sammy?"

"We getted pizza and now I go bath time with Daddy," she grinned and trotted down the hall.

Olivia followed with heavy feet, three impending dooms on the same side of the house, her son whom she inadvertently pushes away, her husband who is probably so pissed off at her right now he can't see straight and Abel who continues to be innocent in all of it.

She's a mess.

She slowly made her way to her son's bed and sat softly on the mattress, vaguely aware that Hannah and her father were having a very happy bath time from all the splashing around she could here. "Honey," Olivia said gently and touched his back, surprised if not shocked when he squirmed closer to the wall to avoid her touch. He continued to sniffle and cry. "Baby," Olivia touched him again.

He took in a deep breath and let out a raspy cry, "Daddy," he called and rubbed his face with his tiny fist, "I wan' daddy."

She could feel the exhaustion getting the better of her and she knew she should walk out of the room before she lost it. "Honey," she tried to sooth him and touched his back again, letting her hand fall to his bottom.

In the three minutes he was in his bed, he'd wet himself.

"Oh, Solomon," she groaned in irritation, "darn it! Come on," she exhaled and helped him out of his bed.

He stood, crying and sobbing and not quite understanding why his mother seemed to enjoy Hannah more than him. He'd just wanted to say hi and his three year old mind doesn't understand why his mother makes him go away so much when his sister is around. Sometimes, he doesn't like his sister. But only sometimes.

He cried harder as his mother rummaged for clean pajamas, "Solomon, please. I need a break, honey. Please give Mommer a break?" she pleaded and pulled out a clean pair of pajamas.

No dice. He sobbed, his belly and chest heaving as he tried to clear his tears with his hands, his mouth agape as he screeched. "Honey, please stop," she thumbed her brow, tried to relax herself and kneeled to help him out of his pajama's.

"Liv?" Elliot called from the door, a little girl wrapped in a towel and shivering in her father's embrace.

"He wet," she told him and she could hear the frustration in her own voice. She could feel her temper starting flare and she didn't know how to stop it. What to do with it. The days and weeks have been too long. Filled with too much emotion.

"Okay," Elliot said and rested his hand on her shoulder. She stood and looked at him, "Wow," his eyes grew wide, "What-What-you're hair?" he tried to ask over the screams of their son. If Solomon yelled one more time he could tell she was gonna loose it. He side stepped her with Hannah in his arms and tried to sooth their son.

Olivia closed her eyes. She'd taken Casey's advice, tried to change things up a little and he didn't like it. Couldn't even bring himself to say something remotely resembling the fact that she looked pretty. The phone rang, "I'll get it," she whispered miserably and waited for him to respond. He didn't and she figured that's just what happens when your body looks terrible. People start to ignore you.

She answered the phone, wanted to kill the telemarketer on the other end but used it to try and gain some distance from her husband, from the kids. In the distance, she could hear Sam and Isaac listening to a story in their room and she wanted to go and visit with them, let their innocence calm her.

"Liv?" Elliot bellowed from the master bedroom, Solomon had suddenly stopped crying and she was jealous that Elliot had been capable of doing that. "Liv? His sheets?"

She lowered the phone, "There in-"

"They're not here."

She hung up the phone, sloppily put it in the cradle and groaned. She was gonna flip. "Top shelf!" she called back. Hoped her voice was in check.

It was the giggling that caught her attention and made the corner of her mouth lift. Solomon had gone from a full tantrum to a giggle and she wanted to go in and scoop him up and tell him she was sorry for being grouchy.

"Liv, I can't find'em," Elliot called again.

She exhaled and made her way down the hall, stopping to peak in on the kids. What she saw placed her mind somewhere completely different from where she should be. In fact, what she saw caused her too loose her mind completely, not to mention her control.

Hannah in her bed, her towel had bunched at her waist, her chest exposed. Solomon standing entirely too close to her.

His hand on his penis.

"Lookit my pee pee, Nanah."

"Hey," Hannah raised her towel to look at herself, "how come you dif'rent?"

"Wha?" Solomon had said and reached to move the towel in pure blameless curiosity, "Lem'me see?"

And that one movement, Solomon grabbing innocently at the towel, removing it from his sister's body had caused his mother to do the unthinkable.

"Solomon!" she'd screeched and yanked him by his young arm, pulling and turning him like a rag doll away from his sister.

He'd been shocked at the violent touch of his mother and he'd gasped just before her other hand instantly came down, slapping hard against the naked flesh of his bottom.

He'd screeched in pain, "Mommer! No!"

Hannah instantly slid off of the bed, her eyes registered shock and fear, "Mommy!"

Olivia's hand raised for a second time, "I'd better not catch you doing that again!" she shouted and came down on his already stinging flesh, again.

Her palm burned and she knew she had to stop. But couldn't. He could never be allowed to do _that_ to his sister. Never.

"Mommy!" Hannah shrieked and grabbed at her thigh, beat on it with her fist, "Stop it Mommy! No hittin!"

Solomon screeched and cried and frantically tried to get away from his mother, he cried laboriously, stomping his bare feet against the pain, trying to hold his bottom to sooth the sting as he looked up in confusion and watched his mother pull her hand up again to hurt him. Again. What did he do that was so wrong she was making him cry?

"OLIVIA!" Elliot yelled and grabbed her wrist, spun her around and immediately broke her hold on Solomon who ran as fast as he could to his brothers'. He ran and never looked back.

Elliot held his wife and shook her, "What's your problem!" he demanded in shock and anger. "What happened!"

She blinked rapidly. Gasped. She'd just hit one of her children. "He," she shook her head, "He-she-he," she stuttered, "he… I hit him," the magnitude of her actions slamming into her and she locked her eyes with Elliot's disapproving ones, "Elliot, I hit him," she said in disbelief.

"Why!" he demanded and held her tightly at her biceps, "Tell me!" he yelled and Hannah began to cry.

"Stop it!" Hannah begged and ran out of the room, her hands on her ears, "Sammy!"

"What's happening to you!" Elliot demanded and released her roughly. He shook his head not understanding what had triggered such a violent outburst from his wife. She'd never so much as yelled in anger at the kids yet here he was, stopping her from hitting their toddler.

She was a mess.

She pushed past him, crossed into the children's bathroom and promptly puked in the toilet.

Elliot scrubbed his hands over his face looked up at the ceiling, "God, help me," he said softly and left the room, closed the bathroom door as his wife wretched.

"Dad?" Sam called urgently, "Dad, what's happening?" he asked, "The Monsters are naked and in my room and Solomon wont shut up and I finally got Isaac to sleep and they're loud and why was there yelling? And-" 

"Shhh," Elliot said softly and wrapped an arm around him. Pulled him close. "Shh. Do me a favor, huh?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Go call Aunt Casey and Uncle Paul and ask them to pick you up, huh?"

"You guys are fighting?" Sam asked in angst.

"No. No," Elliot assured him, "No. I promise we're not fighting, but Mom needs some time alone. Please call and have them pick you up."

"Dad-"

"Now, Sam."

Sam swallowed, nodded, "Okay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mommy extra angry?" Hannah asked as Elliot gently zipped up her pajama's.

"Mommy is… not feeling well," Elliot told her, hoping that her three year old mind would forget any of this ever happened.

"Oh," Hannah exhaled and cupped her father's face in her hands, "My broder?"

"I'm gonna get his jammies on and he's gonna stay home while you guys visit with Addison."

"Mommy gonna say sorry for hittin?"

"Yeah," Elliot whispered and touched his daughter's hand with his, kissed her palm gently. "Mind if Solo sleeps in your bed, tonight?"

She thought about it, mulled it over for a few seconds, "Only if mommy says sorry for hittin… She not nice to my broder. Bad."

Elliot smiled gently, kissed Hannah's cheek and whispered, "Your mother means a whole lot to me, just like you. And just like you she's a good girl, okay."

Hannah nodded, "Kay," she whispered and let Elliot lead her to the front room where he laid her on the couch next to an already knocked out Isaac.

"Dad?" Sam asked from the opposite couch.

"Yeah?"

"She hit Solomon, didn't she?" he accused as he packed an overnight bag for himself and the kids.

"Sam-"

"She said she'd never hit us. She lied. She's never done that before."

Elliot closed the gap between him and his son and kissed the crown of his head, "I think your mom is having a hard time right now… how about you say a prayer for her, huh?"

Sam nodded sadly, "Whatever."

Elliot turned back around, spotted Solomon,"Come here, you," Elliot smiled warmly at Solomon who sat in the corner of the couch, his body balled up as he sniffled. Still naked. He stared at his father and placed his much smaller hand in his and he held as tight to his father as he could.

Elliot embracd him tightly as he shook and cried in his arms. He walked him back to his room and sat him gently on the bed and cupped his cheek, "She didn't mean it, son."

"Hurted me, daddy."

"I know," Elliot whispered and saw the confusion and pain in his boy's eyes.

"Nanah, her makes Mommer, smile?" Solomon asked and began to cry again not understanding why he didn't make her smile just as much. Wasn't he just as cool as Nanah?

"You do, too," Elliot assured him and gently wiped his son's tears away, "I promise you that you make Mommer smile." Solomon sniffled and hung his head, his little body shivering in the cool air.

"Come on," Elliot encouraged him and held up his pajama's, "Let's get you warm, huh?"

Solomon rolled to his side and stretched to reach his feet to the floor. He'd exposed his bottom in doing so and Elliot gently touched the angry welts that made them self known, his wife had done this and it was so far removed from who she was that he couldn't figure it out.

It enraged him and broke him at the same time that she was this frustrated and confused.

"My owie," Solomon told him and stood in front of his father, innocently waiting for him to help him into his pajama's for the second time that night.

"I'm sorry," Elliot whispered and helped him into his pajama's, "In the hole," he coached and praised him, "Big boy," he smiled softly at his son and pulled the zipper of his one piece from his ankle, up his tiny body until it stopped at his neck.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Where my Mommer?"

"Sick."

"Oh," he rubbed his small belly and looked at his bed, still no sheets. "Mommer fix it?" he asked and pointed.

Elliot looked over his shoulder then back at his boy and picked him up, laid him gently in his sister's bed, "Hannah said she'd very much like it if you'd sleep in her bed, tonight, how's that?"

He grinned and it struck Elliot, a child's resilience, to be hurt one moment and happy the next, "Nanah go bye bye?"

"Adios," Elliot whispered gently and kissed his forehead. "I Love you."

"Love you, Daddy."

"Dad!" Sam called, "We're leaving," he shouted with the front door open, a very confused Paul and Casey on the porch.

"Solo!" Hannah pointed to the room as Elliot picked her up.

"He's gonna stay with us," Elliot assured her.

"I'na see him!" she told her father and wiggled out of his arms, as Paul ushered in and scooped up Isaac. Hannah made her way to the overnight bag that Casey had just picked up and rummaged through it. "Sammy, Mr. Uno?"

Sam exhaled, felt his way to his sister and kneeled, "Hi Aunt Casey," he said soflty and felt on the side, moved a blanket and withdrew the treasure.

"Hi," Casey touched his face, "you guys okay?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "Mom's sick."

"Oh," Casey replied, "she seemed fine when I left her after dinner."

"Yeah, well, she's not," Sam quipped and stood as his little sister scampered down the hall.

Elliot followed her, and smiled as she rose to her tip toes and tapped her brother, "Stinky," she shook him.

Solomon smiled at his sister, "Hi, Nanah. I in yous bed."

She giggled and presented her gift, "Mr. Uno protect you."

He grinned and cuddled up with the bear, "Love you sister."

Elliot's brows rose when Hannah stretched a little taller and kissed her brother, "Love you. Bye bye."

"Bye bye," he said sadly.

"Daddy," Hannah smiled up at him and raised her hands to him, "Up please."

Elliot obliged and was ready to hand her over to their friends for the night when Solomon interrupted, "Daddy?"

"Yeah, son?"

"You tell'ded Mommer I love her, too, kay?"

Elliot swallowed, nodded, "Kay."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot had been slightly surprised when he opened the door to the bathroom and didn't find his wife there at all. "Liv?" he called loudly, so she could hear him. Respond to him.

She didn't.

But he heard her crying just the same and found her sitting on their bed, her legs drawn up to her chest, her back against the headboard.

She was a mess.

He leaned against the door jam, folded his arms over his chest, "How's Alex?" he asked, trying to gain some sort of ground or normalcy or whatever he was supposed to be shooting for.

She'd hit him.

She cried a little harder and he didn't know if that was because she'd finally broken Alex or if it was because she finally shattered. He thinks it's probably a combination of the two. "You had no right to do that, Olivia. No right," he said gently and his voice was surprisingly free of anger, but saturated with worry, grief, hurt.

She nodded, her lips tight as she struggled in vein not to sob, "You're right," she cried and covered her face, "I know. I-you're right."

He was relieved to hear that because hopefully it meant that she'd understood that she was out of line, that it hadn't been something she'd do again. It would be the last time she ever did something like that to their kids. Ever.

"Hit them again," he cried suddenly, and anger flashed over him, "and I swear to you, Liv, it'll be longer than a night that you don't see them. You understand me?" he demanded shakily.

She'd hit him.

She sniffled, nodded, and wept uncontrollably as she struggled to talk. "I do. You're right. I'm wrong," she cried, "I'm not arguing. I'd expect you to protect them… I don't know what happened."

He swallowed and pushed himself off of the wall, closed the gap between them and sat slowly next to her feet, his hand resting gently on her thigh, "Come here," he whispered and moved closer to her, wrapped his arm around her and let her fall into him. Let her sob against his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head, found her ear, "He wanted me to tell you," his voice hitched and he exhaled, "that he loves you."

She balled his shirt in her fist and cried. Cried for her son who fell asleep with the knowledge that his mother had hit him. Fell asleep scared and confused. She cried because she couldn't pick an emotion and stick with it. Sobbed because she felt as sexy as a two-dollar whore and she cried because she knew that Alex and Robert weren't gonna make it.

"It's okay," he promised her and rubbed her back with his large hand. "It's okay. I'm right here."

Her emotion continued to come out in anguished sobs and she figured at any moment, Abel would wake up and he would leave her to tend to him. She held him tighter, buried her face into his chest, trying desperately to hide her shame and confusion with herself. "It's okay," he continued and waited until the clocks minute place had changed exactly eighteen times before he pulled back and peered down to see that she was staring blankly into space, an occasional shudder to catch her breath.

He laid her gently onto her back, separated her grip from his neck and kissed her hands tenderly. "I want you to get some sleep tonight."

"I should go talk to him."

"Let him sleep," he commanded softly and gently scooted his body down the bed, unlaced her tennis shoe and gently slid it off casting it to the floor before doing the same with the other.

"Don't," she shook her head, "Don't touch me."

He hovered over her body, only slightly and moved the hand she was covering her face with, "Look at me."

"Elliot-"

"Olivia," he sniffled, "stop fighting me. Look at me, baby."

She shook her head, "I can't," she sobbed, "I can't. You have no idea how ashamed I am right now-"

He pulled her up, gently forced her to stand. He held her waist tight against him and kissed her forehead, "Don't be ashamed," he whispered. "You were wrong. You know that and tomorrow you'll make it right. I know you will."

She cried again and rested against him, "I'm so sorry."

He exhaled, "I know," he whispered and kissed her neck tenderly and unbuckled her jeans.

"El-"

"Shh," he exhaled, clenched his jaw, "let me do this. Let me take care of you?" he asked and softly removed her pants touching her gently as he removed the fabric, helped her step out of it and he tenderly, slowly ran his hands up her body, kissing her abdomen and raising her sweater over her head and letting it fall as he stood in front of her.

She cupped his cheek, looked at him as her tears continued to stream along her face, "Why aren't you yelling at me?"

He smirked, kissed her palm and lowered it back to her side, before reaching behind her and unclasping her bra, slowly taking it off of her body and casting it away to the floor.

He touched her breast softly.

"Don't," she swallowed, "don't. I can't. Not now."

He smiled, rubbed his thumb over her nipple, "I wasn't going to," he confessed and gently kissed her over her heart before taking his own shirt off and placing it over her head, her new hair cut demolished with all the activity of the night. He straightened the shirt over her body, kissed her temple and let his lips linger there, "I like your hair."

She closed her eyes and wept. She was such a mess.

He helped her into bed, pulled the comforter over her body before shimming out of his pants and sliding in next to her. She kept her distance, not sure what to do. This wasn't something she'd expected.

She'd hit him.

"Come here," he said softly and she immediately moved to him, held tightly to him and sobbed again.

"I'm so sorry,"

"I know."

"I hit him, Elliot. I hit him," she cried.

"I know," he exhaled and kissed her hair, "but, I want you to get some sleep so you can fix it with him tomorrow."

She took in a long shaky breath, hid her face into his chest and screamed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Olivia had slipped out of bed in the early morning hours, no longer able to sleep. Elliot had held her tightly for the majority of the night and she'd cried more than she'd slept. She'd delicately slipped out of his embrace and peered down at Abel as he slept peacefully in his crib, "Hi," she whispered and ran her knuckle along his cheek, "you're very handsome this morning," she said softly and tucked his blanket just a little tighter around his body before leaving him to continue his rest.

She'd wanted to talk with Solomon but knew that Elliot was right, he needed his rest. She silently padded to him as he slept and ran her hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, honey," she sniffled softly and tenderly kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry," she confessed and smiled a little that her daughter had parted with Mr. Uno to give her son a little comfort. She kissed him again on his forehead and exited to move about a much quieter morning routine that was anything but routine.

She wanted the routine of Saturday walks with Sam, morning stories with Hannah, evening painting with Isaac and… what does she do with Solomon? Is it actually possible that she has unknowingly separated herself from him? Is it possible that a mother could do that to her son?

She slipped into her office chair, quietly called the gym to let them know she wouldn't be there today, either. Canceled her meetings. She knew when she finally did return, she'd be drowning in paperwork, struggling even more than she already was.

She'd been working on the Gym's books for well over an hour, when she'd heard the fussing from Hannah and Solomon's room and tiny feet scuffing against the carpet. She turned and her heart dropped to her belly, her son stood in the doorway, tears streaming his face. "Hi," she said softly and slowly turned the chair so she faced him.

He sniffled and cried, "Pee pee."

"Okay," she nodded and stood slowly, scared to scare him. She'd been out of control with him only hours ago. She's been cruel.

She'd hit him.

"It's very early, honey. Did you pee pee the bed?"

He rubbed his eyes, nodded and cried harder.

"It's okay," she whispered and gently, slowly, picked him up into her arms, unconcerned with his wet bottom. "Hi," she whispered and tenderly touched his cheek, kissed him softly and pulled him into her, "I'm so sorry," she whispered and cried into his neck as she walked him back to his room.

He held tight to his mother as she pulled clothes out of the dresser and walked him into the restroom. She unzipped his pajamas gently after she sat him on the counter-top, a gentle kiss on his cheek.

She let the water of the sink run to warm before soaking a rag and ringing it out. She helped him stand on the counter-top, "Arms," she smiled and helped him out of the pajamas. He leaned into her, hugged her tightly and she stared at him in the mirror, gently pulled his garment down and she cried softly as her fingertips moved delicately over the welts that had stayed over night.

Made their home on his flesh.

Gently, she wiped him down with the warm rag and he shivered against her, "Coldies, Mommer," he said and pulled back to look at her, held her face in his hands, "why cryin'?"

She sobbed. Rested her hands on his bare bottom again, "I'm sorry I hit you, baby."

His face took a moment to register, but he looked at her and he touched his hand to his own backside, "Hurted me."

She nodded, licked the tears from her lips, "I know. Mommer's very sorry, honey. I shouldn't have hit you, baby."

His lip jetted out, "I makded you super mad."

"No," she shook her head, "No. You did nothing wrong. Mommer was wrong, Solomon."

"Mommer go time out for hittin'." He said with a nod. "Yeah, time out."

She smirked, "You're giving me a time out?"

"Yeah. Not posed to hit, Mommer," he said and touched her brow, tracing it with his tiny index.

She nodded, "Okay," she agreed and took his hand, brought it to her lips, "how about we get dressed and then Mommer goes straight to time out?"

"Kay," he grinned and carefully sat on the counter waiting patiently for his mother to help him with his clothes.

She peered down at him, tipped his chin to look up at her, "Solomon?"

He giggled, pushed his thumb into his bare chest, "Me!"

"Yeah," she said softly and let her thumb glide over his bottom lip, "can you forgive me?"

He grinned, pulled her hand back and placed a wet kiss, complete with a hum and smack against her palm, "Isa' must!"

She closed her eyes, rested her lips on his forehead, "I love you."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Time out for hittin'," Solomon told his mother and led her by the hand to the same area that he knows his sister is always in, and the same area that he sometimes joins her in.

"Really givin' it to me, huh?" she said softly and the truth was she was grateful that he was giving her the time out, that he was still seemingly in love with her despite her laps in gentleness. Despite her cruelty.

She'd hit him.

He led her to the chair and she sat slowly, her knees coming up to her chest, her entire body far too large for the small chair. It was uncomfortable for her, but she knew that her discomfort was minimal in comparison to his shock last night. The slap against his skin.

Perhaps, in his mind a five-minute time out will make it all better, but in her mind, she would carry this one regret to her grave, knowing that the one thing she never wanted to be was the very thing she became last night, triggered by soiled sheets. "I'm very sorry, Monster-Boy."

He giggled and stood, wedged between his mother's thighs, "Time out… shhhh," he scolded and covered his nose with his fingertip.

She cupped his cheek, let the pad of her thumb graze his soft cheek, "I didn't mean to hurt you, honey."

"Mommer!" he grinned and shook his head, "Shhh!" he told her again and squatted, looking for the timer he needed and because he's camped out here with Hannah more times than he can ever remember, he knows how to set it. He knows its number three for being crazy and its number five for hitting. He sat the timer, put it back down and looked up at his mother, "Keep hands and feetsies to ya'self," he reminded her.

She nodded her head, tears streaming her face, "I promise."

His eyes widened at her voice, "SHHH!" he chastised and then furrowed his brow when he saw her tears.

He grunted and pulled and climbed his way into her lap and rested there, his head on her shoulder, "I go time-out wid you."

She exhaled, wrapped her arms tightly around him and held him, cried silently against him and rubbed gently over his back. She let her nose take in his perfect, soothing scent and she couldn't be more grateful that he was sitting in her lap.

Trusting her when she didn't deserve it at all.

She's not sure exactly what is going through his young mind but what she is sure of is that she will beg God every night to never, ever let him remember what she has done. His large, fearful eyes as she hit him, flashed through her mind and she pulled him tighter, her lips kissing him delicately and she let the silence remain.

Her time out was a punishment.

And she knew she deserved so much more.

The timer sounded and she simply continued to hold him, kiss her here and there, smiling at the feel of his hands clasped behind her neck, "Mommer? I get cakes?"

"Pancakes?" she grinned and sobbed, kissed him again, "The very least I can do for you, big boy… want to help?"

He pulled back, looked at her in full excitement, "Yeah!"

She smiled and sloppily hoisted herself and her son out of the tiny chair, "I'm thinkin' whipped crème?"

He raised his hands in the air, a shrill exclamation of happiness sounding, "Yeah!" he laughed and giggled and in his world, all was forgotten because last night he had dreams of marbles and Legos and Transformers. All was forgotten because she was his Mommer. And this morning she was going to let him help her make his favorite breakfast.

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"Dat's my ledder!" Solomon laughed, standing on his chair as his mother placed a giant 'S' on his plate.

"Yep, that's you," she grinned and pulled a chair up next to him. She shook the Redi Whip in her hand and handed it to him, helped him hold it.

He focused more than usual, cooking always his favorite thing to do. He pushed with his index finger and grinned and giggled, his foot stomping on the chair in happiness that the crème was going exactly where he wanted it. Everywhere.

"You get ledder for Daddy?" Solomon asked around a bite of his pancake.

Olivia grinned, wipping excess crème off of his chin, "Yeah, got one for daddy too, but lets let him sleep. I want to spend some time with you."

He smiled, let his feet dangle as he sat and took another bite, "Where your ledder, Mommer?"

"You know?" she wrapped her arm around him as he ate, "I didn't make one for me… thought I'd just watch you have fun."

He looked at her and his blue eyes were happy again. He looked back at his plate and had a really fun idea. He let his pudgy hand gather up some whipped cream and turned to his mother. Her eyes widened in laughter and let him do whatever he wanted. Right now, today, he could burn the house down and she'd let him off without so much as a warning.

He touched her nose left a dollop of white there and then drew her a mustache, a soul patch and then stopped to assess his work. He laughed full and happy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Elliot took in a deep breath as he stretched to the other side of the bed. "Liv?" he muttered groggily when he felt open space. He sat up, scrubbed his hand over his face and blinked out sleep, trying to focus on the figure in the chair.

His wife.

He smiled softly, "Come back to bed, Liv."

She exhaled, leaned over in the chair, her elbows on her thighs. "I… Solomon knocked out after breakfast and Abel... hasn't woken up."

He sat up a little straighter and tilted his head, "How's Solomon?"

"He," she shrugged her shoulder slowly, "he gave me a time out."

Elliot grinned, "Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded, the sadness and regret still written in her eyes. "He cooked you breakfast," she said and moved to close the gap between them, the breakfast tray on his nightstand. Had it been Horace it'd of bitten him.

"He did?" Elliot smiled, "I'm guessing letter cakes, huh?"

She smiled sadly, clearly weighed down with the need to talk to him, but not sure how to go about it. He's asked her, practically begged her to talk with him for days on in and she pushed him away, lied to him, and now she wants desperately to come clean.

The fact that she lost control and hit their child, a direct red flag that she needed to get her emotions out there, if only to have them there, to have him aware of it.

She placed the tray over his legs, sat softly on the mattress and stared at her hand in her lap, "He was a very excited little boy, this morning… he let me hold him after he ate, for a long time, El. A really long time and it dawned on me that he'd fallen asleep against me."

"Liv," he said softly, not wanting to wake up Abel. He wanted to talk to his wife, talk to her and tell her she was so sexy. So beautiful. "He loves you, Liv… he knows you didn't mean to do it and he's three… he wont remember."

"Yeah," she shook her head, "Just like Isaac isn't supposed to remember Adrianne, right?"

"What?"

Olivia ran her hands through her now very short hair and held them there, "When I went shopping for the bar-b-que… Adrianne was there and… you could tell Isaac thought she was familiar," she whispered and suddenly stood. "Eat. I'm gonna shower. I need a shower."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She took the time to blow dry her short hair and even after it was dry she kept blow drying it trying to gather her thoughts. Trying to figure out what she would tell him. What she would say to get him to understand that what she needs to say, isn't his fault at all.

She looked at herself in the mirror, turned the blow dryer off and wondered what it was that he saw in her, the crows feet forming, the crooked smile, she really did have an odd nose and maybe the short hair-cut wasn't the way to go. Maybe she should have asked him what he thought about cutting it. She exhaled, puffed out her cheeks and didn't have the energy to put on make-up knowing full well she'd probably cry it off.

She heard Abel crying from the other side of the door and thought that Elliot would tend to him immediately but when Abel continued to cry, she opened the door to see that Elliot wasn't there, his breakfast tray gone, the bed made.

She padded quickly to the crib and smiled down at him, "You got your grumpy pants on?" she whispered and delicately picked him up into her arms, "You're okay, I got you," she assured him and gently laid him on the bed, diapering him as fast as possible to avoid the chill of the morning.

Abel fussed as she made her way to the headboard, the pillows behind her for support before gathering him close to her body and peering down at him, "Morning, little boy," she whispered softly and ran her hair through his soft, silky hair. "You slept very late, didn't you?"

"He's probably very hungry, too," Elliot said from the door, a full bottle in his hand but, not yet entering. Waiting for his wife. Waiting to see if he was welcomed.

Olivia looked up, saw how timid he was and wanted to calm him, tell him, he didn't need to be nervous or worried because she was the wrong that was wrong. All wrong.

Entirely wrong.

"I'd like to feed him," she said, "if you don't mind?"

He grinned and he'd take that as her consent for him to enter, "Can I sit with-"

"Yeah," she nodded to the other side of the bed, "yeah. I'd like that."

He made his way to her, climbed over the comforter and sat impossibly close to her, wanting to feel her next to him, wanting to smell her, to wrap his arm around her. He handed her the bottle and watched her cradle their son, offer him sustenance.

"He slept a long time," she whispered softly.

"Yeah, well," Elliot smiled and touched the crown his son's head, "he helped his ole' man do a lot of house work last night, and we traipsed the town, partied a little, you know how that goes."

She smiled softly and Abel caught her stare. He fussed just enough t get the bottle out of his mouth and he stared at her for long moments until he looked at his father, and smiled.

"Did you see that?' Olivia asked in awe, "Did you see that, El? He smiled at you."

Elliot grinned, rested his large hand on his son's belly and smiled back at him, "I think he was trying to smile at both of us but decided I was the funny lookin' one," he whispered and kissed her cheek delicately before nuzzling her ear as she guided the nipple back into Abel's mouth. "Maybe," Elliot whispered in her ear, "he thought you were too beautiful to laugh at."

She turned so that her forehead rested against his, accepted and in fact held his gaze finding it a comfort in her distress. She tilted her head, just slightly and tenderly pressed her lips to his, found his own ear, "Can I talk to you?" her voice hitched.

He wrapped his arms around her, careful of their son and kissed the crown of her head, relief flooding him that she would let him in, finally. "Please."


	21. Pit Stop

His eyes had been closed and his forehead had been pressed affectionately against hers for what seemed like a very long time although, he new it was nothing more than a minute. Relief was flooding his face and she could see the overwhelming peace that was taking over her husband because she simply wanted _to talk_ to him.

Even though they are married, she cannot fathom why her talking to him, calms him. Is it the tambre of her voice? Does it have the same effect on him that it has on their children when they are upset or injured? Does it provide him the same soothing balm that his voice provides her?

Or could it possibly be that her intense moods, her on-and-off attitude with Abel, her constant crying and exhaustion and whatever else she could present in terms of emotional breakdowns, were concerning him to the point of sadness?

She kissed him tenderly again and for a moment, he wasn't sure that was what she'd actually done so he leaned forward, kissed her just as softly on her lips as she had him, "I love you, Liv."

She nodded against him, her lips tight as she started to cry again, her hand on his bearded cheek, "I know." She sniffled and exhaled, her thumb gently grazing his beard, "I know. I'm sorry, Elliot. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you."

His eyes finally opened, slowly, and he looked at her, pulled back a few inches and kissed her forehead, "You're worrying me, Liv. Please talk to me? Please? Please tell me what you were going to say, please?"

She pulled her knees up, readjusted Abel so he lay comfortably on his back against her thighs, she continued to feed him, continued to busy her hands and gather her thoughts. She looked up at her husband, "I really do love you, Elliot."

He furrowed his brows at her, assessed her, "Baby, please just tell me?"

She gazed back at Abel and exhaled, took another deep breath and let it out slowly, cleared her throat, "This is awkward."

He closed his eyes, exhaled, "Liv, honey-"

"No," she shook her head, "no. I just mean… talking about this with Abel right here. It's… _awkward_."

"Do you want me to put him in his crib?"

"He can't hold his bottle."

"Liv," he whispered, "Please, just trust me and stop stalling. Please, just tell me what it is."

Another deep breath before a slow exhalation," Isaac saw Adrianne at the super market," she confessed softly and absently played with Abel's foot as he continued to drink his bottle.

Elliot closed his eyes taking in the full impact of her confession. He opened them again, saw her staring down at their boy and nodded in understanding, "That must of crushed you… why didn't you say something?" he asked, his voice void of accusation and filled with a genuine desire to talk this through.

She shook her head slowly, shrugged slightly and looked away, wiping a tear and sniffling before looking back at Abel, "I don't know… I just-I-It's too much, Elliot," she began to cry and wipe her face with the back of her hand, "It's too much."

"What's too much? Tell me," he encouraged and wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close to him. "Tell me."

"His face, Elliot," she shook her head again. "His face just… He _recognized_ her and then, that night," she hiccupped and Abel started to fuss at the sudden stress in his mother's body.

"Liv-"

"Isaac asked if little boys could have two mommies," she sobbed, the corners of her mouth turned downward as the tears streamed along her cheeks and she looked pleadingly at her husband. "I'm his mommy, Elliot. I'm the _only one_. Me."

Elliot wanted to hold her; he wanted to pull her even closer and rock her and tell her that she was Isaac's mother. His only mother. He wanted to hold her, but Abel showed his unhappiness with Olivia's state and instantly began to cry. Elliot took him gently, kissed her softly on her temple, and placed him carefully across his lap on his belly, patting his back tenderly before wrapping his arm around his wife, "You are the only one, Liv. You're his only mother, I promise."

"He remembered who she was," she sobbed into his chest, "he remembered."

Elliot kissed her against her hair, let his nose bury in the sweet scent of the fresh shampoo, "Liv… maybe subconsciously but… he probably doesn't know _why_ she's familiar."

"She shouldn't be familiar at all!" she protested and pressed her face further into his body, crying harder, "He's my son, Elliot. He's mine, I'm his only mother!"

Elliot momentarily left Abel's back and embraced his wife tightly. He remembered the time when Isaac had pointed to a picture of Nick Ganzner and called him Daddy and his heart broke. It cracked and it shattered and his anger at the world surfaced. He knew exactly what she was feeling right now.

Despair.

"I love you, Liv," he whispered to her because that is all he could tell her. Sure, he could tell her that it would be okay, but she wouldn't be able to focus on that right now. He cold tell her that he's right here but that would be stating the obvious. "I love you," he whispered again and kissed her tenderly, "I love you, I adore you, you're-"

"Don't," she sniffled and pulled out of his embrace. Leaned back against the headboard and turned her face from him. The small sound of Abel's burp the only noise between the two of them. She stared back into her lap, at her hands, her wedding ring. Did he really know what he was getting into when he slipped it on her finger?

Yes.

In her heart of hearts she knows that.

But, today… she can't seem to grasp it.

Slowly, Elliot left the bed and she'd almost panicked. She needed him in the same room with her no matter how much she pushed and fought with him. No matter how much she hurt him trying to claw her way through this mess she was in, she needed him to stay. Although, hurting him would never be her intention but she thought to herself, as she ran her thumb over the band of her wedding set that she does that a lot, that no matter how hard she tries to fix it and make things easy for him, on him, she just makes it harder.

She's a mess.

But, her panic subsided when he simply lowered Abel into the crib and turned on the radio next to it. Mozart for baby. Elliot had picked it up for him while he was out yesterday after he couldn't get Abel to calm down, his tiny face was scrunched up in sheer, unadulterated grumpiness and it lasted for what Elliot felt could be eternity, but it was the ridiculous elevator music that seemed to calm his boy immediately and so, he made sure he had something similar to it in the house now.

He returned to his wife who hadn't budged, hadn't looked up or even acknowledged that he'd left the bed. He sat softly on the mattress, her knees still bent, still picking at her nails. Gently, he rested his hand over her nervous ones and squeezed softly, "You'll mess up that new manicure," he said with a small smile.

Slow and steady breaths would be what kept her from sobbing like Hannah in his arms. Slow and steady, "Casey."

"What?"

She finally looked up at him, slow and timid and her eyes swarmed with so many things that Elliot didn't know where to start. What emotion to grab first because it all seemed to blend into the next one. What he needed was a book. A book about emotional roots that had pictures of her eyes and he could flip to the page and match it to her and know what the root of the problem was, because he was no fool in thinking that Isaac and Adrianne were the root of all of this misery.

No, he liked to think he was smarter than that.

And he was. Always was when it came to her.

"It was Casey," she said softly and looked back at her lap, "we… were trying to talk to Alex and… well, you know Casey."

He smiled, chuckled lightly, "She made you do it?"

"Suggested I try something different… it'd been awhile, I guess. Didn't really realize it, but my hands were looking older."

He took her hand in the warmth of his and brought it to his lips, kissed her palm gently and looked at her as his lips lingered, "Still beaut--"

"Stop," she said weakly, her voice a rasp as she slowly pulled her hand away from him. "Stop saying that."

He furrowed his brow; the absence of her hand in his somehow alarmed him, "How come?"

She looked up at him and for a split second he was looking at Benson, pissed off and ready to put someone's balls in a blender. But, it was only for a split second before she softened, "How come what?" she asked, stalling for time.

He rested his hand on her ankle, let his fingers do as they pleased there, "How come you won't let me call you beautiful when you are?"

She scoffed, turned her face away from him and silently cursed her tears as she wiped at them quickly, "I'm anything but."

His eyes bulged and he was suddenly angry with her self assessment, "How can you say that!"

She turned to him, her nostrils flaring and her eyes narrowed, "Because it's _my_ body! That's how!"

"And you're _my_ wife!" he told her firmly and startled her when he hooked his hand around the back of her neck and met her lips with his. The kiss was hard, crashing almost before he pulled away, irritation still clearly showing, "You're my wife and if I say you're beautiful then you are!" he told her adamantly.

"It doesn't work that way Elliot!" she snapped and rolled her neck to release his grip.

"Why not!" he demanded and his anger was slowing giving way to concern, compassion, a definite desire to understand where she was coming from.

Because when he looked at her, all he saw was sexy.

"Because, Elliot. It just doesn't!" she hissed and he loved this.

He loved that she, with her short hair and narrowed eyes was Detective Benson. She was suddenly so bold and full of shout and maybe, he thought, that was what she needed, to be a spit fire again. To get the juices flowing.

He squinted his eyes, shook his head, "That. Was a _ridiculous _comeback."

She'd opened her mouth to say something and stopped. Her mouth still agape and a look of pure fury sparked in her eyes, "Get away from me," she ground out. "Now."

"No. Not until you tell me why you're wearing your poopie-pants all the time, these days," he smirked and waggled his brows, deliberately egging her on into anger because, while a docile Olivia is still gorgeous, a pissed off Benson can have him at the position of attention in a nano-second.

She moved her lips like she had something to say, but stopped at the first sound, she shook her head, tried to figure out what was happening, why he was suddenly antagonizing her when she just wanted to fall into him and tell him that she's struggling. She wanted to do all of that, to speak, to explain and to ask for help and patience.

But instead, she punched him in his arm. Hard.

"Ouch! Benson!" he scolded with a full grin on his face and gently massaged his tricep.

"You don't have to be such a mo-"

He laughed and bent forward, grabbed her about her waist and rolled to his back as she gasped and rolled on top of him, "Such a what?" he asked with a grin and held her firmly over him. No sex intended, just a clear communication that he was playing with her, that he was trying to deliberately set her off just to be able to bring her down. Make her smile in reflection of her anger.

And he did.

She smirked a little as she stared down at him, "I'm not having sex with you."

"Wasn't asking for it," he whispered and was slightly serious, as he touched her cheek tenderly. "Not at all, Liv. I just want to know why you're upset."

"You were provoking me," she said with an arched brow and tried a bigger smile in hopes of throwing him off. She wanted to end the entire conversation, be done with it.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely and tried to adjust his head to a pillow.

"Here," she murmured and stretched to pull the pillow under his head.

He smiled, peered down the collar of her shirt, "How can you say you're not beautiful, Liv? Huh? How can you want a breast lift? They're amazi-" he stopped. He'd gotten a little ahead of himself.

She pulled back, sat on his abdomen, her knees tucked, "What did you say?"

His mind raced and back peddled, "Um, uh, in the shower, you said you wanted a breast lift-"

"No," she shook her head softly and suspicion shrouded her features, "No. I said I wanted a _boob job_."

He shrugged, "Same thing."

"No," she eyed him accusingly. "No, you were specific, just now. You said a breast lift."

"Are we really gonna argue? They're perf-"

She exhaled loudly enough to cut him off as she stared down at his abdomen, "You saw them, didn't you?" she asked weakly, "My desk… You saw them?"

He ran his hand over his face and took his own breath before puffing it out, "I just… I didn't want you to come home and clean and worry about us… we wanted to clean for you and help you out and Isaac was fighting with the vacuum and… the office was quiet and Abel was hungry and… they might have caught my eye, or fallen into my lap," he admitted sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Liv."

She took a deep breath, exhaled, "Don't be… kinda makes it easier I guess, then, huh?"

"I just," he shrugged, "I don't understand _why_… You're-"

"If you say beautiful one more time I'll take you out back and kill you," she deadpanned.

He smirked, "Fine. You're not beautiful… you're gorgeous."

"Elliot," she groaned. "Come on, please just stop?"

He watched her and refused to grant her mercy, "I'll stop saying it for five minutes. That's all. You've got five minutes to explain to me the absurdity of wanting to change your body, when it's perfect."

"Ell-"

He tapped the face of his watch, "Time starts now."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You can't put me on a clock."

"Just did… you better start explain' or in four minutes and forty-five seconds I'm gonna call you sexy," he smirked.

She rolled off of him and laid on her back, stared up at the ceiling, "You're acting like a child."

"Don't be silly," he muttered and turned to his side to look at her. He bore a smirk, "Kid's can't tell analogue time."

"You can't just do this and expect me to explain myself."

"Four more minutes and I think after I call you sexy I may follow up with hottie."

She glared at him from the corner of eye, "Whatever."

He licked his lips, smiled and simply remained silent. Another minute had passed and she hadn't said a word, another passed and there was still nothing, but when he casually whispered to her that there was only one more minute left, he watched her eyes move frantically across the ceiling, darting here and there and her chest rose and fell faster.

She suddenly turned her head to face him and her confession almost killed him, her voice was so tiny and weak and foreign to him when she finally spoke. "I feel ugly, El."

His brows arched in surprise, "What?" he asked because that was all that would come out of his mouth.

"And dirty… so dirty," she confessed and blinked out a tear that wasn't followed by a sob or hiccup or labored breath, but just slowly trailed to her pillow.

His teasing left him. Immediately.

"Dirty?" he shook his head softly and wiped her tear with the pad of his index. "Why?"

She swallowed, looked back at the ceiling, "I really… I really would like to have the surgery. Please?"

"Please?" He had to smile at that. "Like I've ever been able to stop you from doing something you want."

"This isn't funny anymore," she said softly and closed her eyes to more silent tears.

Silent tears were the worst. He never knew what to make of them. At least when she was crying and laboring for breath and hiccupping and all of that, he could figure stuff out, but the calm storms, the silent tears. Those were scary.

"Olivia, look at me."

"No."

"Liv. Look at me."

She exhaled, continued to stare at the ceiling and she wondered what year it was that construction workers decided to texture the ceilings rather than put that ridiculous, glittery, popcorn crap that she remembered having growing up, "I can't Elliot. Please stop asking me to."

Slowly, he raised his hand, gently placed it on her shoulder before allowing his fingers to glide delicately along the flesh of her collar bone, "Just because you don't look at me doesn't mean I'm gonna quit talking," he threatened.

She remained quiet, _wanted_ him to talk, wanted him to talk her through this, guide her, make her feel normal. Make her feel like a woman, again. His lover. So, she remained quiet because she knew he wouldn't.

"You know," he said softly, "how I feel about you, Liv. How I feel about your body." He followed the neckline of her shirt, rested his fingers at the top button of her top, "I think you're perfect, Olivia… I see you, you know? When you're getting dressed and, you know I like to watch you get dressed and… I've noticed you haven't let me see you, you wrap your towel around you and you've never really done that… I guess I didn't put it together that you've felt this way."

"You're not a mind reader," she said and closed her eyes. Wished he was.

He watched her face, watched for any flinch or uneasiness as he slowly undid her button. There was none, but he stopped, let his fingers linger near the next button, "I think you're so perfect, Olivia and my hands… Baby, my hands," he smiled against her cheek, "they fit you and you fit them and it's perfect," he assured her and slowly undid the second button.

She was so still and so quiet that he wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep, but when he looked closer, he could see her eyes searching under her lids. She was very much awake, "When I make love to you, Liv… you look so amazing… your chest is perfect when I thrust into you and… Liv," he couldn't help the blush that crept over his cheeks, "when you wear those tight shirts and I can see you… you have no idea what it does to me, Baby… it's zero to erection in a second."

She was still quiet and while her body didn't move, there was the faintest twitch in her lips, the faintest smirk and so, he unclasped another button, slid his warm palm into her shirt and over her abdomen, "I remember the first time I touched you, Liv. I do," he shook his head and smiled, leaned down and kissed the lace of her bra, moved his lips higher and kissed flesh, "I remember that you were perfect in the palm of my hand," he whispered and gently rested his hand over her breast.

"I love everything about your breast, Liv," he smiled boyishly. The phrase sounding a bit odd to him, but if this was what she needed, if she needed his reassurance that she still turned his head, he'd give it to her at the risk of sounding like a fool.

Lazily, he trailed the lace of her bra and he could see her jaw clench. Out of nervousness or anger or anticipation, he wasn't sure, "I love these bras with the claspy thingy in the front of them, 'cause I can see you faster," he said honestly and unclasped the fabric.

Her movement surprised him; she'd moved so quickly and covered his wrist, "Don't. Please? Please don't touch me like that."

"Liv," he whispered pleadingly and cupped her cheek, turned her to face him. Wiped the tear that spilled as soon as she opened her eyes, "I don't think you need a surgery to look good. But… if you want it to feel better about yourself, I'll support you in it."

"You will?" she sniffled.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly. "I'm not gonna be happy about the down time," he joked, "but I'll deal." She grinned, but there was still something so terribly off. Something so false that he chose to push her further, "Liv?"

She wiped at a cheek, "Yeah?"

"There were… two… I mean, I'm not saying you need it, but… I mean… I was reading it, you know… and it said-"

"You're starting to sound like me." She smirked, "Of course there would be two breasts, you can't lift one and not the othe-"

He cut her of, "Am I not satisfying you?"

"What?" she furrowed her brow and tried to figure out what in the world he was suddenly talking about and then it dawned on her exactly what he was talking about. There _were_ two. Not as in two breasts but rather there were two _pamphlets_.

"It… the pamphlet," he said and his confidence faltered, his demeanor was suddenly shaken. "It said… the vagio-labotomy-whatever… it said it would give you stronger orgasms… is that, I mean… am I not… up to par?"

What a mess.

"It's not you," she whispered, her hand cupping his cheek, "it's not."

"Are you sure? 'Cause I was reading on the internet and there was an article…. I'm not sure if it's true but it said that a man's penis can shrink with age," he blurted and looked at her in desperation, "Level with me, Liv… am I shrinking?"

Perhaps it was the absurdity of the question, perhaps it was the desperation in his voice or the fact that he actually Googled something like a man's penis shrinking. Whatever it was, it got a full laugh out of her and her body finally turned to him, "No! No!" she continued to laugh, until tears of a different kind welled up in her eyes.

"Oh," he pouted, "so, now _I'm_ the funny one?"

She grinned, stroked his hair just over his ear, "This is such a mess, Elliot."

"Well," he searched her face and swallowed nervously, "is it… am I not getting the job done? Am I giving you weak orgasms?"

"Oh, El," she whispered and moved closer to him, kissed his mouth lightly and smiled, "It's not you, Baby. It's not."

"But," he propped himself up on his elbow, "you _are_ hav-"

Her voice was tiny but it was enough to stop him mid sentence. "I can't come, El," she divulged, her eyes staring at his shirt. She wondered if he realized that at some time during the day, Abel had spit up on him.

"What?"

She buried her face deeper into the pillow, "Please don't make me say it again."

His face blanched and he was shocked, "Can't? Like… can't?"

"Can't like can't," she confessed miserably.

He drug his hand over his face, "Oh no. I _am_ shrinking."

Her shoulders rose and fell, her muffled laughter into the pillow, before the lack of proper oxygen flow forced her to face him and take in air. He caught her off guard, covered her body just enough to hover over her and keep her still, "There's that smile," he whispered and nuzzled her nose with his. "Tell me what's wrong, Liv. Tell me and we'll fix it."

Her lips tightened; her hand was on his cheek before she shuddered and cried, "I don't know."

He closed his eyes, rested his cheek against hers, nestled his body as close to her as possible, "We'll fix it, Liv. We will. We'll fix it," he assured her, kissed her neck again, her lips and cheek and held her body close to him, "Baby, why didn't you tell me? I would'a tried something different or-"

"It's okay, El," she whispered, "it's okay."

"Liv, is… is that why you felt like you had to fake it? Because you couldn't?"

She nodded shamefully.

"And… the deck. The delay-"

"Yeah," she thumbed her brow, "I don't really need a play-by-play, Elliot."

"I'm sorry-"

"No. No I didn't mean it that way, I was just saying… I'm aware of the problem."

"How long?" he asked timidly.

She winced, "Off and on... how did you know I faked it?"

He smirked, "Mmm, couple of different things, I guess."

"Like what?"

"Well… it was all wrong. I mean, it felt nice when you squeezed your muscles, but, you didn't pull my hair, and your abs didn't flex and… I mean, Liv… I've watched you break in my arms for years… did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I…don't know what I thought."

"And-"

"And?"

The corner of his lips twitched, "You told me your were on your period… but, I had my mouth on you and you'd _never_ let me do something like that if you were… I put it together. A little slow, but I did."

"El… it's not you. Do you believe me?"

He nodded softly, "I do. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"The laundry r-"

She instantly turned from him, turned her entire body away and because that wasn't enough, she wormed her way to the edge of the mattress, "I don't want to talk about the laundry room, Elliot."

"So… you're just gonna camp out on the seam of the mattress?" he asked and made his way to her, pulled her back to him, to the center of the bed. "What I'm hearing from you," he whispered and gently kissed the back of her neck, as she held his arms tightly over her mid-section, "is that you're feeling unattractive. Am I right?"

"Unattractive is an understatement, El… I feel _hideous_. I feel like I'm… not attractive to you, like I'm not pleasing you, like… I feel like… everything about me is suddenly so _wrong_ and _so filthy_ and… I'm so tired," she sniffed, wiped her cheek against the pillowcase.

"Okay," he kissed her neck again, "Okay… I'm hearing that you feel ugly, that you feel like you're not pleasing me and that you're wrong and filthy, am I right? Did I hear you right?"

"Vivian has created a monster."

He grinned, "Yeah, but one who hears his wife now, huh?"

She reached back, touched his cheek tenderly, "You've always listened."

"Then tell me why you suddenly _don't_ want to talk about the laundry room. Liv… did-I mean… did you fake-"

"No," she shook her head and turned back to him. Looked right at his eyes, "I promise you, Elliot. I _enjoyed_ it."

He took this into consideration, "Okay… then I want you to hear me say something."

"What?"

"You," he cupped her cheek, grazed her damp flesh with the pad of his thumb, "are so sexy-"

"El-"

"My turn to talk," he grinned, kissed her mouth. "You are so sexy. So beautiful, Olivia. You do satisfy me, baby. Even, just being next to me is satisfying and having your mouth on me is gratifying and your hands and your body and," he shrugged, smiled. "You satisfy me, Olivia."

She blushed, looked down at the comforter and he tipped her chin back to him, "I'm not done," he whispered. "We all make mistakes, Liv… doesn't mean that you're wrong. Nothing about you is wrong. Nothing… and you've never been filthy."

"Elliot-"

"Tell me what you heard, Olivia." He told her and moved his fingers to her cheek, cupped it gently as he looked down at her in expectancy, "Tell me what you heard me say, Liv."

She covered his hand with hers, kissed his palm lovingly and laced her fingers with his, "What I hear you saying is that… I'm sexy. You think I'm beautiful and I satisfy you."

He grinned, hoping he'd finally gotten through to her. He kissed her hand, let his thumb rub along the ridge of hers, "What else did you hear?'

She looked down and the grip on his hand lightened, "I heard you say that there's nothing wrong with me. That I'm not filthy. I heard you say that was what you believe."

"But you don't?" he concluded.

"It's not… that easy, Elliot."

"All you have to do is believe-"

Anger flashed, but only to cover the shame he swore he saw first. She'd wrenched her hand away from him "This isn't Never-Never Land, Elliot, and I'm not wishing on stars. So, stop it!" she demanded and swung her legs over the side of the bed, rested her elbows on her thighs and held her temples. She had the makings of a pretty good tension migraine coming on.

He watched her posture, watched her slumped shoulders and bowed head. He moved around on the bed until he was next to her and moved to wrap his arm around her. "Liv-"

She stood up, "Just… leave me alone. Please?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Open the door, Alex!" Robert yelled, his fist pounding onto the wood of the cheap hotel room. "Open it damn it!" he demanded again and moved to the window, tried to see through the sliver of opening through the drapes that were sloppily pulled shut. "Open this damn door or I'll break it down!" he demanded and crashed his palm against the pain of the window.

"GO AWAY!" Alex yelled, the drape suddenly being pulled open and his worst fear, confirmed.

She was leaving. Not just him, but New York.

His eyes bulged at the clothes that appeared to be in the process of being packed messily into a duffel bag and what enraged him was the fact that amongst all the clothes that were hers, he could make out a small pair of sneakers. Thomas'.

"YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIM!" Robert yelled and returned to violently attacking the door. His weight heaving and slamming into it over and over until he stepped back, "He's my son, too!" he hollered unconcerned that onlookers were starting to notice the commotion. He kicked at the door knob, felt the door give just slightly. "He' mine!" he yelled again and he was loosing every ounce of control he had. His wife had affair. Left their home. And was now leaving the city. With their son.

"Robbie, stop!" Alex pleaded and closed the drapes turned as the sound of his body and his kicks at the door grew louder. He was in a full rage that she never knew could exist from him and Thomas sat on the edge of the bed crying.

"Mommy!" he labored for her and she wished she'd of left him hidden with her family. Wished she hadn't of brought him back into her mess.

"Come here," she tried to smile and scooped him up, both of them jumping as the wood of the door splintered and Robert continued to rage, "it's okay," she soothed him, grabbed her cell phone from the bed and ushered him quickly into the bathroom, closing the door behind them and the only thing she knew to do was slide against the wall as close as she could get to the bathtub.

"Mommy!" Thomas cried into her neck, "Mommy, what's daddy doin'? He's scarin' me!"

And before she could answer, one last kick against the door sounded and she heard the impact and violence of it slamming against the wall as he made his way into her room, "ALEX!" he demanded.

Her heart beat raced, she'd never been scared of Robert. Never. But, here, cuddled with her son on the bathroom floor of some crappy hotel, her husband furious with her, she didn't know what to expect. "Robert! I'm calling the pol-"

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door gave way to his massive body with one brutal slam of his body against it.

"Mommy!"

Rabid. That was what Robert looked like. He looked like a rabid man, fully capable of killing her and taking Thomas. Forever.

Just as she'd planned to do. Take Thomas. Forever.

He raised his hand and pointed at her, the veins pulsing and flowing in anger, "You give me my son!" he ground out, spit flying as he clenched his jaw, "Now.!"

"Robbie," Alex held her crying and shaking son tighter, "Robbie…. Go away. You're upset. Don't-don't do this-"

"GIVE HIM TO ME!" he shouted again and moved quickly, bent his daunting body over her and attempted to pry Thomas out of her grasp.

She held tighter and he cried louder, his tiny nails digging into the back of his mother's neck, "Mommy!"

"Robbie, stop!"

"You had the affair!" he shouted and tried to break Thomas' grip as Alex struggled to her feet, hoping to gain some sort of leverage to assist in keeping her son.

"Robb-'

"You don't get to keep him from me when _you_ fucked up!" he shouted and tried desperately to pull at his son.

She managed to get to her feet and smacked her husband across his cheek, gave herself just enough time to turn her back to him, shield her son from him possibly taking hold of him again.

Rage transformed into pure wrath as he held his fingertips to the sting of his cheek and he went after her again, "ROBBIE! STOP!" she screeched when she felt his hand fist into her hair, her hand immediately covering his, trying to save herself from loosing scalp as he forced her to stand. "ROBBIE YOU'RE HURTING ME!"

"FREEZE!" a loud booming voice echoed into the small bathroom, "STEP AWAY!" the voice demanded over Thomas' screeching and Alex's crying. His hand had released from her hair and he stared at his own hand in shock.

"W-what did… oh, Al…. baby, I'm sorry."

"HEP ME!" Alex wailed. The fear of her husband still very much palpable, "HELP!"

"STEP AWAY!" The voice instructed again and this time it was accompanied by the small sound of metal chambering a bullet.

Slowly, and perhaps in shock of his own behavior, Robert stared wide-eyed at his wife, huddled on the floor, her back to him, her hair in disarray, their son crying into her body. He raised his hands in the air; absently followed the instruction of the officer and all he could think was that this was not how he had planned it.

He'd checked on the previous hotel where he'd tried to talk with her last. Found that she'd checked out and he was alarmed and panicked because he just wanted to talk to her and tell her that whatever it was, he'd change, he'd fix himself he'd get another job if it was the lack of money. He'd do whatever she needed him to do to feel like she should stay.

He'd do whatever.

He felt a warm hand grab his palm and quickly place a handcuff on his wrist, demand his other hand and a tear escaped him, not because he was going to jail, but because for the first time since he'd known his wife, she was scared to death of him, and last time he checked he promised to cherish her not terrify her.

He'd called the credit card company to track down her purchases again and when there was none he had a sneaky suspicion that was confirmed the moment he'd went to the bank and found that she'd taken exactly half, and he had smirked at the teller who helped him, because that was Alex. She'd take what she knew what hers and leave the rest for him. He wished she'd taken it all, so she would have just ruined him.

"Sir," the officer's voice startled him again, "Sir!" it repeated and he felt his wrist being twisted behind him and he wondered how long he'd been standing outside, next to a police car with people starring at him.

"What!" he barked, mostly from the pain of the twist and the humiliation of what he'd just done to his wife.

_I promise to honor and cherish you from this day forward. _

He's a liar.

"I said, do you understand theses rights as I have read them to you?"

He nodded softly even though he had no idea what, if anything the officer had said. "Yes."

"Okay," the officer responded and rested his hand over the crown of Robert's head, "Watch your head."

"Is she alright?" Robert asked as he pulled his leg into the confined back seat.

The officer's voice had suddenly changed from authoritative to something between compassion and confusion, "My partner's checkin' her out… that your son?"

Robert nodded, a sob erupted from him and he hanged his head as he wept uncontrollably, "Yeah."

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Paul Novak was completely out of place as he looked around the waiting area of the jail. There was the parent, mid forties who looked like she may kill her son or daughter or whomever she was there to bail out, there was the obvious gang banger who was there to bail out his homie or boy or whatever they were calling one another these days and then there was him, the tall man who'd been getting ready for a meeting today and had just tied his tie and was folding his collar down as his wife and son slept on their bed.

_You have a collect call from an inmate at… _

He'd thought it was a joke, really and so he'd been laughing when he said, "Yeah, sure, I'll accept the charges."

But the voice on the other line, the one that was originally so cool and calm and collected-crap, the _teacher_ on the other line, had startled him and he immediately walked into Addison's room to shield the call from his wife, "Robert?" he'd questioned, "what's going on?"

He'd told him not to cry over the phone, not to do that in a jail because others would be watching and he didn't want him hurt. He didn't ask what he got picked up for because if he wanted him to know he'd tell him, but everything inside of him told him to wake Casey up and tell her to get to Alex. Now.

"How much?" he'd asked, not really caring that it would cost a bundle. Robert was a friend and they'd swing it or Casey would kill him for making him stay in jail. Then again, maybe if he'd asked and known why he was there, she'd kill him for getting him out. Whatever the case was, his friend needed him and so he would go. But, then, something a little more alarming had struck him,.

"I'm curious, Robert…. Why didn't you call, Elliot?" he'd asked and the silence on the line had him practically running back to his wife as he assured him he'd be there.

"Casey, wake up. Now!" he told her and shook her body without finesse.

"Come one, Paul," she groaned, "I'm not having sex with you with Addison right here. Take him to his-"

"Casey, get up!" Paul told her again, already picking Addison's sleeping body up and adjusting him in his arms.

"What's goin' on?" she asked, one eye closed against the light, the other squinting as she tried to focus and sit up.

"You need to go find Alex."

"I know where she is," Casey nodded, "I do. It's the hotel on-"

"No," Paul shook his head frantically and adjusted his very heavy son to his waist, "No Casey, go find her. Something isn't right. I'll cancel my meeting and drop all of the kids at the Gym day care. You need to call her, figure out where she is."

Casey furrowed her brow, "Paul?"

"Casey, now."

"Tell me what happened?"

He exhaled, "Robert called-"

"She okay?" she said in angst, "I mean… she didn't have an accident?"

"Case, I don't know," he shrugged.

"Then why did he call?"

Paul exhaled, "He called…. To be bailed out of jail."

Casey closed her eyes, took in the confession and tossed herself back to the bed groaning, "Alright…. Go. Let me know as soon as you head something. "

"You too?"

"Yeah, as soon as I hear."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He'd given her some space, but only because he wanted to make absolute certain that Abel was asleep, the baby monitor was correctly placed and her hot chocolate was warm. He threw the fleece throw over his shoulder and opened the sliding glass door, walked out to the deck.

He smirked, she'd huddled into herself and he thought this was probably what he might have looked like when he was out here, trying to calm himself when all he wanted to do was fall into her.

He closed the gap between them and quietly placed the steaming mug on the banister, "Two shots of cherry," he said delicately. She turned to him, only slightly and her eyes were red, her face was exhausted and she was shivering and far too stubborn to admit that walking outside in the cold of the early morning probably wasn't the smartest thing for her to do.

Slowly, she wrapped her hands around the warm mug and closed her eyes, she was such a disaster. "Elliot-"

"Shh," he whispered, and draped the blanket over her shoulders. "Just get warm… I'd ask you to come in, but I'm guessing it'll be, no. So, just get warm." She took a small sip, felt it warm her body as his breath fell across her neck in steady, even flows.

Long moments passed in silence as she drank slowly and tried to get warm. He'd reached over her shoulder and lightly removed the mug from her hands, took a small sip to warm himself and gave it back. His lips were even warmer as he kissed her cheek, rested his against hers and held her tightly, "I'm going to ask you something and it's going to embarrass you, but that's not what I'm trying to do, okay?" She remained silent and he waited a few more seconds to give her a chance to protest.

She didn't.

"When… we make love, do you feel _anything_?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yeah… sometimes."

"But not… all the time?"

"No… I mean, at first it was just hit and miss, and then… I mean, you _had_ to be touching me and then suddenly… _nothing_. I just," he felt the heat of her blush against his skin.

"What?" he encouraged.

"I just… I couldn't come… with… you in…side of me."

He nodded, something about her confession was unsettling. He let his mind wander and weave through their conversation, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together and he couldn't. She wasn't giving him enough information. She was still hiding something and he couldn't place his finger on it.

"But if I _touch_ you, I mean… if I'm stroking you, you can?"

She bowed her head took a sip of her chocolate to disguise her unease and he could tell the embarrassment was getting to her, "Hey," he chuckled, "you could have a shrinking penis, you know?"

She choked on the chocolate, sputtered and coughed to clear her throat, "Elliot!" she rebuked with a grin.

He grinned, kissed the corner of her mouth from behind, "There's that smile," he whispered to her again.

She put the mug down, tightened his hands over her waist, made sure the blanket covered them and exhaled, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be… but, Liv… I don't understand… does it really matter if I'm inside of you or if I'm touching you? I mean… isn't it the same?"

She knew that it was gonna sound crude but, "I need you inside of me, Elliot. I need you inside of me when I come. I need that to be the way."

"But if I can _touch_ you and make you come-"

"I can't!" she hissed and was suddenly more frantic, she was a panther looking for an escape from her hunter. "I can't, Elliot, alright! It's nothing. Not with you inside of me and not with you touching me!"

He nodded, tried to not take that one personally and took a deep breath, "Liv-"

"Elliot," she scoffed, "I used to come just by having your mouth on my breast and now I can't come with you touching me or with you inside of me and I don't know what that means."

"But I was… inside of you in the laundry room."

She picked up the mug in anger, slammed it down on the banister and it cracked, the last remaining drops flowing and pooling on the banister, the broken pieces laying where they chose, "I know you were!" she shouted and pushed his shoulder, "I know you were, okay! But don't you get it, Elliot?" she screeched and these tears he understood, these tears were the angry ones that meant she herself didn't know what was happening and she was scared.

"Liv-"

She backed away from him, her hand running through her hair before fisting it and pointing to the side of them, at nothing, as she continued to yell. "I can come in handcuffs with you inside of me, but not _without them_?" she shook her head, "I was struggling Elliot!"

He panicked. No. No way, did he miss it again. She enjoyed it. She said she enjoyed it. That's what she said. Three times. He'd made sure. She liked it, he'd asked permission, he didn't do it in the bed. He didn't miss it again. He moved to say something and she cut him off.

"I was struggling to come and your mouth was on me!" she yelled. "I've always been able to come like that and I don't know what this is! I don't know what this means!"

He visibly exhaled. He hadn't missed it. She hadn't had a flashback. She'd been struggling in a different way. A far more intimate way.

"And then," she licked her lips, her breathing rampant and her speech a million miles an hour as she spoke. It was obvious to him that she'd been thinking a lot about this. "And then," she continued and lost her bravado, lost her shout and her shoulders shook as she cried "and then…"

"And then what, Liv?" he asked softly and braved a step closer to her, "And then what? Did I hurt you? Did you remember something? Did you really not enjoy it? I don't understand. Please, help me?" he pleaded.

She shook her head in misery, "I can't," she rasped and slowly lowered herself to the deck floor, ashamed, broken and in complete emotional disarray.

He took a few seconds to gather his own thoughts but decided he was going to dig in his heels and they were going to get to the bottom of this if it took all day. "Liv," he said sensitively and lowered himself, painfully to the deck, the cold air doing nothing for his aches. "Come here," he whispered and pulled her into him, wrapped the blanket around them again. "It's okay, if you didn't enjoy-"

She shook her head against him, effectively cutting him off, "I did enjoy it, Elliot," she confessed feebly and balled his shirt in her fist, "that's the problem… I couldn't come, I was struggling when you… we're giving me oral and then suddenly I'm _cuffed_ and… I… it was _intense_, Elliot."

He smiled, "You're upset about an intense orgasm?"

She pulled back, looked at him, "Don't be like that."

"I'm sorry."

She deflated and leaned her head back, "I really enjoyed the laundry room, Elliot and I meant what I said about trying it on the bed, but… we… we made love out here, on the deck and… _that's_ what bothered me."

This he didn't understand. "Well… I mean, you… I noticed that you had a hard time-"

"That's the point," she confessed sadly. "I can come in cuffs, without needing to be touched, but struggle when I'm _not_ in cuffs… what does that say about me, Elliot? What does that say about me… as a woman?"

He's so incredibly confused.

She bit her bottom lip, "You don't understand me, do you?"

"I'm sorry, Liv… I'm lost," he confessed and covered her leg with his hand.

She wiped at her eyes, exhaled, "When… Oliver was inside of me… my body _responded_."

"I know," he assured her and moved his hand to hold hers, "I know, and… we both know that sometimes that can happen and you've made a lot of growth-"

She squeezed his hand, cut him off softly and looked at him. Her eyes were alarmingly dead, "My body responded to a rape, it responded to being tied up again, but… it won't respond to someone I love… what does that say about me? As a woman? As your lover? What does that say, Elliot?"

He exhaled, kissed her hand and reached over with his other hand, pulling her down to his shoulder again, "It means, that you have entirely too much on your plate, baby. You have had a very rough couple of weeks and not being able to climax could be from stress and having an intense orgasm could be just because it was a new experience… the deck was cold, like it is now," he chuckled lightly.

She hid closer to him, "I'm sorry I lied to you, Elliot. I'm sorry I faked it."

"Liv… I don't want to give you an easy answer, but… I mean… we've made some really huge decisions and… you saw Oliver, and… well, what I'm trying to say is, why don't we try and get you relaxed? Why don't we try and just… take one thing at a time before we put you through surgeries you may not need."

She shivered in his embrace and exhaled, "I… Abel smiled at you, Elliot. Did you see it?"

He's aware she just ignored his question.

"I did," he beamed.

"He smiled and… he was so cute. He was innocent and he was… my son."

He rubbed her bicep briskly, "He still is, Liv."

She shook her head, sadness creeping in, "He's too much, I can't handle him," she confessed. "It's… I was doing so well and… it's all coming back and I… just… thought I was… _past_ this."

He tipped her chin up to him, kissed her mouth softly, "You'll get through it. I'll help you."

She was so incredibly tired. Too tired to talk anymore and so, she let the silence fall again and they were comfortable with it. "I love you, Elliot."

He grinned, "What's not to love?"

She chuckled softly, grew quiet again, "Elliot?"

"Yeah?"

"When… we make love," she cleared the nervousness from her throat. "Can you… feel _me_?"

He was all smiles, "Oh yeah. Definitely. Every inch of me feels you, Liv."

"Because," she worried her bottom lip, "if that wasn't the case, if you _couldn't_… if you couldn't because my body isn't… satisfying, then… the surgery could help with that, help with making my body more…satisfying."

"Liv-"

"I mean, if my body is… not exactly…_ tight_….if you can't feel me… it would-"

He smiled softly, rested his lips at her ear and his whisper sent a chill down her spine, "I can feel you, Olivia."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What the hell do you mean she's gone? I was just here with her yesterday!" Casey protested, unsatisfied that the overweight, overly sweaty and definitely overly repugnant man across the hotel counter did not give her the answer she was looking for to her simple question. Where was Alex Gray?

"Look lady," he responded with about as much enthusiasm as day-old road kill. "The people come in, they pay their bill and I'm a happy man, you got me?"

Casey's brows rose almost imperceptibly, and she was seriously considering scaring the crap out of him with some legal jargon but she wasn't sure he'd be smart enough to fall for it. Apparently, stupidity could be bliss. She exhaled, "Did she… at least tell you where she was going?"

"Again," he leaned forward and Holy-Halitosis, she thought she was going to faint, "I aint nobodys keeper; even a fine ass lady like that blond you ran with yesterday." His tongue slithered out to lick his bottom lip as if this were to make Casey swoon, "How's about you and that blond bring back your dark haired friend and I can show you what a real man feels like."

Casey looked at him, blinked and rolled her eyes, "Or," she smiled and began to walk backwards, toward the door, "you can go sit on your thumb and rotate."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How did you figure out that this calms me?" Olivia asked as she used her hand to support Abel in the sling that hanged from her shoulder.

"What?" Elliot furrowed his brow and laced his hand with hers, still supporting Solomon as he slept, his head softly resting on his father's shoulder. "Walking?"

"Yeah," she squeezed his hand softly. "I noticed that… when I'm upset, you make it a point to get me out."

He laughed quietly and rubbed his thumb over the flesh of her hand. The Autumn leaves fell gracefully to the ground, crunching under the weight of them as they slowly walked, "It was… maybe a few days after your mother died. You'd come straight back to work and, while I knew you would, I also knew you'd be a little off."

She raised her brows in curiosity, "Off?"

"Yeah, and you were. Not with the job though, it was more, just… you. You were so upset and so unwilling to show it and," he smiled at the memory. "I'm not sure what Munch told you to make you snap and yell at him but, I remember running into you in the hall-"

"And you grabbed me by my arm and dragged me up to the roof," she chuckled, her hand rubbing small circles on Abel's back.

"Yeah… but… your face had changed. I'm not sure how many laps around the roof you and I took but… your face changed and I think… I think that was the first time I'd seen you cry."

"I didn't cry."

He laughed, kissed Solomon's shoulder and looked at her, "Then what do you call it?"

"Allergies," she nodded.

He chuckled again, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple, "You were beautiful, still are."

She snaked her arm along the small of her back and looked up at him as they walked, "You really think I'm beautiful?"

He waggled his brows, "I could show you how beautiful I think you are, tonight."

She looked back ahead, and her countenance changed, she tensed, "Mmm," she was stalling.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean-"

"No. No…. I just. Don't apologize to me, okay?" she asked and squeezed his hand. "It's not… I don't want you to walk on egg shells around me, I… it's my problem, you know? I'll figure something out."

He stopped then, dead in his tracks, his son's forehead sweating against his neck. He stared at her in a bit of anger and a whole lot of shock, "Is that what you think?"

She'd only stopped because he tightened his hand over hers and pulled her back, mid step. She looked at him, felt his grip tighten around her hand and she continued to run delicate fingertips along Abel's spine.

"Answer me," he demanded and tilted his head, the mid-morning sun making him squint against it. "Do you think that this is all you? That I'm just gonna leave you alone in this?"

She tilted her head, looked down at their hands, his knuckles were turning white against her flesh, "You're hurting me," she said softly and laced her hand with his the moment he'd released her hand. She didn't want that, full release. She wanted the comfort of his palm against hers but he'd been smashing her slender fingers against the metal of her ring. "I… I know you wouldn't leave me alone, I just…" she bit her bottom lip debating if she really wanted to open up this can of worms.

"Just what?" he whispered, raised her hand and kissed it gently, felt the cool of her flesh and decided he didn't like this, that she was cold. He gripped her hand, placed it laced with his in his coat pocket and started to walk again, they'd stop for chocolate, maybe a coffee.

"Just," she exhaled, her hand instantly warming in his pocket, "I _feel_ alone," she confessed and quickly added, "It's not you that makes me feel that way. It's not. It's not at all."

He nodded and Solomon clicked his tongue, turned his head to the opposite direction and continued to sleep, "If… If my wife is feeling alone… isn't that sort of my fault?" he asked gently and there was no blame, no guilt or frustration, it was a simple question, a desire to know where he stood in this, what his role was to be in getting her through this new endeavor.

"No!" she told him adamantly and squeezed his hand in his pocket, "No! No it's not. I just… I feel like this is all me and I… that can be right, it can't be. I mean… don't you have some sort of concern about Abel?"

"Sure," he shrugged, "but what can I do except trust the decision that we made?"

She looked down at the young boy in the sling, gently moved the fabric aside so she could see his face more fully and she smiled seeing that he'd waken up and stayed as quiet as he was, "You really think it's that easy? That we just trust ourselves? That doesn't make a whole lot of sense, Elliot."

"Well… it's the only sense I got at the moment, and I'm good with that," he told her matter of fact and smiled gently at her.

"Elliot-"

"Did you want to marry me?" he asked suddenly, so far out of left field she wasn't sure they were in the same stadium.

She stopped, looked at him and was unconcerned that they'd journeyed from the path of the park to the sidewalk and people began to walk by, the pace of the city pushing them along in their daily routine, "What? Of course I did," she smiled, not quite sure how to take his question, "I did it twice, right?"

He smiled at her, "But… when you married me, did you think to yourself, that we'd be perfect? That we'd make it? Weren't you scared?"

"Terrified is more appropriate," she laughed softly and exhaled. "I knew… I knew you'd be good to me. I wasn't worried."

"Liar!" he grinned. "You're telling me that you married me in complete confidence?"

She bit her bottom lip, "Okay, maybe I'm lying a little bit."

"Just a little bit?"

She nudged him, started their pace again and instinctively held Abel closer, protecting his tiny body from passerbys that occasionally bumped against them in the growing crowd. "I'm not sure what I thought our marriage would be like… I didn't think I'd cry so much," she deadpanned. "It's ridiculous."

He ignored her lame joke, chose to press her further to get to his point, "So… then, if you were scared, why'd you do it? Why'd you marry me?"

"Trusted you," she shrugged as if it was as simple as that and to her it was.

"Then?" he said softly and stopped her again, a hurried businessman nearly colliding with her until, at the last moment he'd dodged around her and muttered an obscenity under his breath.

"What?" she questioned.

He smiled, fascinated that she was actually this clueless right now. "Well, if you can trust your decision to settle down with me… if you can trust your decision to fight for us when I do the illogical things that I do… why can't you trust your decision to care for Abel, to love him?"

She exhaled, her cheeks puffing out, "Trust myself?"

"Yeah."

"Sort of… not my strong suit," she confessed softly.

He smiled tenderly, slipped his hand into her back pocket and walked along with her in silence for several blocks, his arm starting to burn from holding his son, he didn't particularly mind, however, so long as she was walking next to him; sorting things out with him, dealing with her past to embrace their future. "You're wrong, you know?" he said softly.

"Oh really?" she raised her brows at him, reached into the sling as Abel began to fuss.

"Yeah," he told her and watched as she carefully extracted their son and rested his body against her shoulder soothing him instantly.

"Well," she smiled, "care to tell me what I'm wrong about?"

"Trusting yourself… you're wrong," he said and held the door to the café open for her.

"So… I trust myself?"

"You do," he nodded, "But you still haven't learned how to not sabotage yourself."

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"You look terrible," Paul smirked as he and Robert walked down the steps of the jail and back into the free world.

"I feel terrible, thanks," Robert muttered. "How much do I owe you?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets in an effort to gain warmth.

Paul stopped just shy of the last step, "Well… how about an explanation?"

Robert took a breath, his face void of anything, pain, happiness, sorrow. Void. "Alex and I… are done."

"I don't get it… you two were the happy ones, the perfect couple. What happened?"

Robert couldn't do it. He couldn't confess to this man that his wife had an affair. It had nothing to do with feeling like he might be perceived as a man that didn't satisfy his wife, but it had everything to do with protecting her image at all cost.

Protecting her.

Cherishing her.

Her.

"I… I lost my temper," he confessed, starring down at the cement, spotting three pieces of old, stomped gum in one square. He wondered, if he walked alone forever, how many pieces of gum he'd count. How many would be fresh, how many he'd curse of meshing into his shoe.

Like she'd meshed into his heart.

Paul looked behind him to the jail, back to his friend, "Temper?" he asked, clearly not believing that loosing your temper landed you in the cross-bar hotel.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. He couldn't cry. He had nothing left to cry. Nothing left.

"Your bail," Paul nodded, "it was a little more than a temper tantrum."

"Yeah, well…. Whatever. I'll pay you back."

Paul shrugged, "Wasn't worried… Casey's worried, though… should she be? Should I be?"

Robert stared at him, "Be whatever you want," he snapped and walked away, disappearing into a city that was just as unforgiving as Alex should be.

As he wouldn't be.

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Elliot watched his wife hold their infant son and he wondered momentarily if at this moment, as they sat on the park bench, Solomon playing in a sand box just beyond them, if Abel was her son, or if this would be one of those moments when he was her antagonist.

He takes this into consideration, he takes her current stress levels, her ups and downs, and most of all, he considers last night. He considers the wild, almost terrorist look in her eyes as she struck Solomon, not once but twice. He remembers the sound of her hand slapping against the bare skin of his body and he takes a drink of his coffee to hide the wince in his features.

"Olivia," he cleared his throat and watched Solomon scoop sand into a pale. Happily forgetting last night, "I meant what I said… about Solomon. I meant it," he said and he wondered for a moment if he was trying to convince her… or him.

She looked at him, her eyes serious and humble, "I know," her chin quivered at the very thought of him taking the kids from her, even to protect them. She bit her bottom lip, adjusted Abel so she cradled him in her arms.

"I don't… I mean… I love you, but… you hit him or any other one of them and I'll walk away from you… with them," he whispered and sniffed as he turned his head slightly away from her, pretending to be more interested in Solomon than a threat, that while it sounded good, he wondered if it would really be that simple. To walk away from her.

No. No, it wouldn't.

"If you stayed with me," she bit harder into her lip in an effort to not let her tears fall, "if you let me hurt them… you wouldn't be the person I married."

He shook his head, kept looking at his son who was looking back at them in curiosity, something a tad off between them. Elliot reached out his hand to his wife, palm up, eyes still forward and he closed his eyes when she hesitantly placed her hand over his palm, he squeezed her hand in his, "Don't put me in that position Olivia. Don't ever do it, because walking away from you, even for them… will kill me."

She took in a deep breath, "Please, look at me?" Slowly, he broke his focus on Solomon and looked at her. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely and tenderly kissed his hand, lowered it between them again as she cradled Abel with the other. "What I did, hitting him, it was unacceptable. I'm sorry."

He turned to face her more squarely, "It can't happen again, Liv-"

"It won't," she told him adamantly. "It won't, Elliot. I don't want to be my mother and I was and it scared me and… and." she bowed her head.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, kissed the crown of her head, "I can't walk away from you, Liv. I can't. You're gonna have to get this squared away because I can't take them from you, as much as I say I would…. I'm not sure I have the strength."

She raised her head, rested her forehead against his and neither one of them could stop themselves from shedding tears. He'd not recognized his wife when he walked into the room that night. He'd not known who that woman was. But this woman, this woman whose flesh was pressed against his, this woman he knew. He knew this heart, he knew it held each of their children and was slowly letting Abel in as well. He knew this woman and was perfectly fine with crying with her. "I love you so much, Liv and I know you're going through this terrible rough spot but we all love you so much, Liv. The boys and Hannah and me… we're so in love with you."

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Sand, in all its simplicity was pretty awesome; Solomon had come to find out. While he didn't know that it was the damp air that made the sand so much better to play in, he was cool with it because what he figured out was that when you scooped the sand into the pale and hit it with the scooper and then put in more sand and hit it again, when you tipped the pale over you got a castle!

What he also figured out was that as wonderful and cool as sand was, it kinda made his feet cold, but it didn't stop him from extending his kingdom pale after pale. Some mounds of sand bore perfect indentions of the bottom of the pale, some crumbled around the edges and so, he took his pudgy hands and tried to fix those crumbling parts.

A little wipe here.

A pat there.

A gentle caress of his toddler hand.

Sand was too cool. He had to share this with his daddy and his mommer, because surely they had never seen something as great as sand. He finished patting one side of his mound of dirt and he wished that it would snow so he could build snow men to protect his castle. For now, he'd make due without the white fluff, but he knew he had to get to his mommer and show her this.

One more pat on the dirt and he looked up, his brows furrowing. Gosh, his daddy was touching his mommer's face just like he was touching his sand, so soft and careful. Solomon wondered momentarily what was happening, he wondered if his little brother was okay, if he could come play in the sand with him, but most of all, he wanted to know why his daddy was touching his mommer's face like that, was her face crumbling like the sand did? Was she crumbling and falling apart? Maybe she just wasn't hit hard enough with a scooper to make the shape right and so his daddy had to fix it.

"Mommer!" he shouted and furrowed her brows. Her face was all wrong, all scrunched up like Hannah's when she's really loosin' it and daddy has to take her to her room, and she's so close to daddy, it's like how daddy holds him when he's super scared.

He ran to her because he had to save her. In his mind, he had to save her and so, inspite of his huge parka jacket and layered clothing, he ran to her just as fast as his little legs would take him, "Mommer!" he yelled waving his hand at her just as soon as she turned her head to see him.

She smiled.

And he ran so much faster. So fast, he felt the cold air make his boogers extra runny and his eyes extra watery and his smile extra big.

Because, the closer he got to her, the bigger her smile got.

"Mommer!" he laughed and giggled and wedged himself between her thighs almost slamming into her body as she used her arm as a buffer between him and the baby, "Hi!"

She sniffled, forced the greatest of smiles that he was still this in love with her that he could smile and willingly run to her.

Because running away from her… killed her.

"Hey!" she grinned and carefully bent her body to kiss his cheek.

"Daddy!" Solomon grinned at him and extended his arms, "Up, pweaze."

Elliot happily obliged his young son and sat him carefully on his lap, the bodies of all four of them so close together it brought warmth, their presence bringing comfort. Elliot rested his cheek to his son's and hugged him, "Hey, you're a cold little boy."

He giggled and reached to rest his hand on his mother's coat sleeve, "I builded a castle house for yous!"

Olivia smiled at him, ran her free hand through his hair, and gently leaned into him, silently kissing him on his opposite cheek and letting her lips linger for a moment, "I love you monster-boy."

"Hey!" Solomon drawed out and grabbed his mother's cheek with his hands, pressed her face sloppily back and looked at her in curiosity, tilted his head and examined her, "Why yous cryin' mommer?" he asked.

She closed her eyes softly and her tears spilled out ran down her cheek and soaked into the fleece blanket she swaddled Abel in just this morning. She had nothing to say, she didn't want to bring it back up to him again even if it was to say sorry. Again.

"Mommer?" he smiled up at her and when she opened her eyes to him he leaned his forehead against hers because what he knows in his three-year-old mind is that when his daddy does this, when he leans his forehead against his mother's and touches her cheek like he's touching hers now, she smiles really big for the rest of the day. "I luv ewww, Mommer."

Carefully, she wrapped her arm around his tiny waist, "I love you too, Solomon."

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Robert stepped through the threshold of the home he knew Alex wouldn't be in and didn't really care that he'd forgotten to close the front door. He stood in the foyer and stared into the empty house. It still smelled like her and in his mind, he could still hear her chase Thomas down the hallway, his tiny legs running, his grin large and his laughter drowning out anything that weighed him down.

In his mind, Alex has just rounded the corner, picked up Thomas in her arms and laughed because he was a giggly, squirmy guy and she loved that he was that way, that he was so happy and carefree.

In his mind, Alex has just stopped, noticing he is home and she's making her way to him. In his mind, her hand is snaking around his waist and her lips are meeting his with their son in her arms.

His mind is one thing. Reality is quite another.

Robert walked slowly, miserably into the house and it's the wedding picture of he and Alex that he sees first. He sees her gorgeous smile and bright eyes and he doesn't understand why he wasn't enough to hold onto her. Why he wasn't enough for her to stay with him.

And as he stares at the picture, a rage slowly builds within him but it's not like the last rage, the one that had him grabbing his wife. No, it's not like that one, this one is a curious rage that wonders what would happen if he simply walked over to the picture and tipped it over.

It wouldn't take a lot of force. Not at all.

And so he did. He walked over to the framed picture of he and his wife, extended his middle finger to the glass and tipped it. It shattered just as soon as it hit the floor, shards of glass littered the photo of her smiling face and he was a little shocked at how good it felt to break something as simply as a frame, although, he'd hated the damn thing in the first place. A gift imposed on them by his mother. It wasn't their style he'd told Alex. She'd said it was the thought that counted and she'd happily displayed the gaudy item in their home.

If breaking a frame could shock him into feeling something… what would breaking the lamp feel like? He tried it, always the one to test a theory. Maybe it was the loudness of the bang, of the crash that soothed him, because in the first time since his marriage, his house sounded dead without his wife and child.

He made his way back into the foyer, opened the hall closet and reached onto the shelf pulling down what he knew would make him feel better, it would bring noise and adrenaline and best of all, he could get rid of that ridiculous flower pot his mother had given Alex for her first mother's day.

Who the hell gives a flower pot?

He took the wooden bat in his hand and he figured he should start where he was, he nodded to himself as if he needed such confirmation, gripped the bat in his hands and swung wildly at the first picture frame on the wall he could spot. Then the second. The noise was instantaneous and it soothed him. It soothed him because the silence was just so much louder than the damage he was doing.

He'd been quiet in his rage, but that changed when he saw the vase she loved, resting in comfortable silence on the coffee table. The glass coffee table. The vase was the first thing to go, his yelling only adding the force of the bat. The pieces crashed here and there and while the coffee table did provide some fight to survive, he'd taken that out as well, shattering it into millions of little pieces.

He walked systematically, room to room and he let his rage overtake him. He thought of her coming in the arms of another man and he cleared the mantle of all decoration that said this was once a home. He imagined her nails digging into another man's back and he'd found himself in their room, the bat shattering the mirror in their room, the lamps on their bedside tables, the pictures off the wall.

When all the rooms that he wanted to destroy were properly and thoroughly smashed, he promptly made his way to the kitchen flung open the cabinets and began to chuck the dishes over his head shouting obscenities as the glass broke behind him. His hands moved faster as he imagined her mouth on another man, her hands running through his hair. He moved cabinet to cabinet until there was nothing else to devastate.

He stood there, in the middle of his kitchen and what he found was that the silence was still very much there. It had waited out his tantrum and now it was taunting him. He made his way to the refrigerator, the broken glass crunching and breaking into even smaller pieces under his weight.

He grabbed himself a bottle of beer, closed the door and then tilted his head at the large appliance. He opened the door, pulled out another bottle and launched it with all the strength he had left against the wall not really caring about the sound it produced or the large indention it made in the wall.

He took his original bottle in his hand, walked back to the living room as he opened it and discarded the bottle cap to the carpet. He swept his hand over the cushion of the seat to remove shards of something that was probably at one time or another an _expensive something_ on the coffee table. Maybe it was her vase, he couldn't remember.

He sat down, took a long pull from the bottle and swallowed as he leaned his head back and quietly cried.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Sammy!" Isaac yelled from the side of the pool, trying to get his brother's attention as he swam effortlessly along in his lane. Isaac knew he could hear him and Sam knew Isaac knew this but the fact of the matter was, he needed to swim. He needed to do this, to wear himself out to try and get out of his mind the fact that his mother had actually hit one of them.

It didn't make since to Sam, not at all. Since they adopted him, all she ever told him was that he was safe, that she'd never hurt him. The night he ran with Isaac with him, she'd told him he'd never be hurt. The night he'd first spent with them and wet the bed, she promised him she'd never hit. He can count at least a dozen more times that she promised him this and it confused him. He didn't know what to do and so he ignored his little brother and kept swimming.

"Sammy! You stupid head!" Isaac screeched as his brother passed right by him knowing full well Isaac wouldn't dare get into the pool without an adult near by. His parent's had him trained on that. He gets in the pool and there's no Spongebob for a week. He'd tested them and failed miserably. "I know you can hear me fart head!" Isaac yelled again and looked around the area, pulled out the Aerobics noodle the old people used to stay afloat in the pool.

Isaac waited patiently until his brother passed him again and he promptly, with all of his might, hit him clean in his head, "Sammy! Lookit me!" he demanded.

Sam sputtered, his form immediately broken as he tried to come up from the water. He reached out his hand and grabbed the side of the pool, "Dude! What's your problem?" he asked in irritation.

Isaac sat on the side of the pool, crossing his legs in front of him, "Hannah is asleep," he said matter of a fact.

"You should thank your lucky stars she's not punching you," Sam quipped and hoisted himself out of the warm water to sit next to his brother, wet against dry.

"She was," Isaac groaned and rubbed his arm absently, "Nicole nailed her though and she fell asleep in time out."

Sam smirked, "Hannah is trouble just waiting to happen, bro."

Isaac thought about that, didn't really care, "Brother?"

"Sup?"

"How come we're here and mom's not? How come Solo got to stay home? I want to go home. "

Sam exhaled, finally took his swim cap off and set it to the side before running his hand forward and back through his hair, "Mom and Dad…" he exhaled, "I don't know Bro, I think Mom and Dad need to talk without us around to bother them."

"Sammy?" Isaac looked at his brother and he was so much bigger than he was that he was comforted to have him next to him.

"Yeah?"

"Nana… she said Mom… hit Solo… that true, Sammy?"

Sam is smart enough to know that if he tells Isaac his mother hit one of them, trust will be broken. Hannah is three, she won't remember what she saw. "Isaac… Mom and Dad are stressed out, dude."

"Sammy?"

"What?"

"Mom hit our brother?"

Sam bit his bottom lip, "No man. How could you think that? Mom… she wouldn't do somethin' like that, dude."

"Sammy?" Isaac asked softly, "You lyin' to me?"

Sam turned to face his voice, he cocked a brow, "Do I ever lie to you?"

"No."

"Then?"

"OK… Sammy?"

"What is this?" Sam tossed up his arms and let a small smile play on his lips to let his brother know he wasn't entirely angry. "It's like the questions just keep comin' out of you. Is there an off switch or what?"

"Mom still hasn't found it," Isaac said with a smile and scooted a little closer to his brother unconcerned with the water seeping into his clothes, "Sammy do you like Abel?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"How come you don't hold him, huh?"

"I hold him," Sam protested.

Isaac smacked his lips, "Not a lot. I like to hold him. He farts on my hand."

Sam smirked, "You're disgusting."

Isaac stretched out his legs and attempted to dip his feet into the water.

"Get your feet out of the water. Now," Sam scolded, "Don't think I won't tell mom."

Isaac smiled, "How do you know where my feet are? You can't see'em."

Sam nudged him playfully and put him in a soft head lock a weak noogie on the head, "No wonder Jordan wanted to kick your butt."

"Not scared of Jordan," Isaac protested weakly.

Sam smiled and exhaled, "Isaac?"

"Yeah brother?"

"Still having bad dreams?"

Isaac jetted out his bottom lip and bowed his head, "Sometimes I want to run to mommy and daddy but… mommy… Sammy did I do something to mommy to make her not like us no more?"

Sam furrowed his brows, "Not like us? Boy, lay off the crack. What are you talkin' about?"

"I'm tellin' dad you're saying bad words," Isaac said.

"And I'm tellin' mom you got in the water-"

"Hey!"

"Hey," Sam arched a brow, "you want to snitch, I can snitch, too."

Isaac smacked his lips, crossed his legs again and held his chin in his palms, "Sammy?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah?"

"You sure mom loves us? Like… like alot?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak and couldn't find the words for a few beats of his heart but eventually they came, "Isaac… you remember when you kept bothering me and Crystal while we were playing chess?"

"Yeah, I like to do that."

"Yeah, no joke," he deadpanned, "but do you remember when I got so angry at you that I just sort of lost it and pushed you?"

"Yeah…. That hurt stupid," Isaac grumbled.

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Look I said I was sorry."

"Still hurt."

"Isaac!" Sam raised his brows and Isaac smirked having successfully gotten under Sam's skin. "Look… Mom and Dad… they've got a lot to think about right now and I think Mom might have just lost it and hit Solomon-"

"HEY!" Isaac shouted and shoved his brother as hard as he could, "You lied! You smelly fart!"

"Isaac!" Sam caught himself before he fell back and he figured he deserved that, but right now he was so angry at his mother for having made him lie to his brother that he wanted to explode.

"You lied to me!"

"And I just told you the truth too!"

Isaac promptly stood to his feet, grabbed the noodle and whacked his brother on the head again, "Butt face!" he shouted and stomped away.

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"You have to buckle your belt, honey," Alex told Thomas softly as she sat next to him in the cramped area.

Thomas' small hands tried to clip in his safety belt but his coordination was lacking. He tried again, "Like in the vroom-vroom?" he asked and finally got the metal lined up so Alex could help her young son buckle the belt.

"Yep, just like in the car," she said softly.

He giggled at the sound of the click and kicked his feet in excitement, "Vroom Vroom!"

Alex smiled softly and clipped in her own belt, leaned back and looked out the window. She couldn't believe that this was what her marriage had come to. She couldn't believe that she was running like a coward with her tail between her legs.

She couldn't believe he'd pulled hair the way he did.

She shook her head, tried to clear the though from her mind and leaned over her son, kissing the crown of his head.

"Looks like I'm sittin' next to a handsome young boy," an older woman smiled at Thomas who happily smiled back at her oblivious to the fact that his father had just had a massive break in reality and was at home, crying and wishing he could hold him.

The woman sat and smiled down again at Thomas who giggled and rested his head against his mother's arm; let his chubby fingers rub along her forearm before resting on her hand, his small index grazing her wedding ring.

She should take it off.

Alex took a deep breath and lifted her hand to remove it.

"This his first time on a plane?" The older woman asked.

Alex furrowed her brows slightly, not thinking as clearly as she'd like to be, "Excuse me?"

"We'll… I'm guessing he doesn't have a whole lot of frequent flyer miles racked up… this his first time?"

Alex nodded and bit her bottom lip, "Yeah. I'm not sure how he'll do so I apologize in advance."

"Oh nonsense," the woman waved her hand and smiled, "he'll be great… Where ya headed? Dallas just a pit stop or your destination?"

Alex wrapped her arm around Thomas again and pulled him as close as the seat and belt would let her, she kissed his hair softly again and her voice was unfamiliar, even to herself when she confessed, "Just a pit stop."


	22. Trying to Understand

Silver Lining

Silver Lining

Trying to understand

"You're sure Solomon will be okay?" Olivia asked as she stood nervously in the comfortable office. _The_ _book shelf_ within eye-sight.

Vivian looked up from her desk, her glasses balancing precariously on her nose, "You two look like shit again." She smirked and leaned back in her chair, "You're making my practice look bad, like maybe I don't know what I'm doing."

Elliot smiled softly, slipped his hand around Olivia's waist, "Liv's having-"

"A melt down," Olivia cut him off, her breath puffing out of her flushed cheeks.

Vivian chuckled, stood slowly from her seat, "Funny you picked those words, the receptionist said the same exact thing when you called."

"It's not a melt down!" Elliot snapped and surprised both of them, his brows furrowed as he licked his lips and ran his hand through his hair, his voice softening, "She's not having a melt down, she's just…. She's got a lot goin' right now."

Olivia arched her brow in disagreement and looked at Vivian, "It's a melt down."

The older woman smiled, "How about you give me that ittie bittie and sit your beautiful asses down?"

"I'd like to hold him a little longer," Olivia said softly, "if that's okay?"

Vivian raised her brows in pleasant surprise, "Indeed."

Elliot smiled gently at his wife, equally surprised that she opted to hold him when someone else was willing to take him off her hands. He sat next to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her tenderly on her temple as Vivian reclaimed her seat and looked at the couple.

If Olivia could step outside her current situation and see what Vivian was seeing, she would see a husband comforting his family, she would see a wife caring for a son. She would see a family coming together as one.

If she could step outside of her current situation. And considering the fact that she was there declaring a melt down told Vivian she wasn't exactly able to do that, not just yet.

"So what brings you by?" Vivian smiled softly and nodded to Olivia.

"A meltdown isn't good enough to stop by and say hi?" Olivia muttered miserably and gently adjusted Abel in her arms.

"Oliv-" Vivian started and was promptly cut off.

"Are you sure Solomon will be okay? He's never been to your day care, he doesn't know the man there or wh-"

Vivian glanced at Elliot, took in his look of worry, wonder, dejection and pure unadulterated confusion. She glanced back at Olivia who was still rambling about her toddler son who was only just across the hall. Her words indicated true worry but her body language, her bouncing leg, her fidgeting body that required the touch of her husband to calm; those things spoke of something deeper. Something more on the lines of withholding information.

"If you'd be quiet," Vivian said softly and stood yet again, claiming a seat much closer to the couple, "I might be able to get a more direct question in."

Olivia stilled, adjusted Abel again and peered down at him, suddenly turning and passing him to Elliot, "Here. Take him, please?"

Elliot exhaled, glanced at Vivian as if asking permission to hold his own son. She simply smiled and he happily accepted the small body into his arms and Olivia promptly stood, "I'm going to check on Solomon," she announced and Elliot stood immediately, his eyes darting between his wife and Vivian, pleading one to stay and the other to help him convince her that she needed to.

"Walk out that door…. And don't come back, Olivia," Vivian told her very simply and continued to sit just as calmly as she always had. Olivia stopped. Her back stiffened and she turned slowly, eyed the older woman, her nostrils flaring.

"Liv," Elliot walked closer to her, Abel still in his arms. "Come on, Liv? Come and sit with me… we need this."

"El-"

"I need for you to do this, Olivia…. I can't- I don't know what to do for you. Please?"

She bit her lower lip, took a step closer and loosely grabbed the hem of his shirt, "Just be with me… that's all I need."

He adjusted his hand to hold his son, cupped the back of his wife's skull and kissed her cheek tenderly, spoke softly into her ear, "I've been here, Liv. I have. I've been here physically and emotionally and it's not working… I need you to do this for _us_. Please?"

Vivian added to the peer pressure. "You pay me well enough that I can hire good people to take care of the toddlers while their parent's get their crap together… honest," Vivian assured her holding up a The Boy Scouts right hand motto. "Solomon is fine. Sit your beautiful-although currently disheveled-ass down and let's figure this out."

Olivia ignored the older woman and held her husband's gaze, "Don't leave me," she pleaded softly, "I don't want to talk about this alone… I… I don't even know what my problem is. Don't leave." He smiled, kissed her again and laced his free hand with one of hers before slowly leading her back to her seat.

"How's the little guy?" Vivian asked choosing a simple question but not expecting the bombshell that was Olivia's response.

"I-I-uh… hit Solomon," she confessed feebly and covered her face with her hands, leaned forward and cried in shame.

Elliot placed the warmth of his palm on her back and rubbed gentle circles as she cried and Vivian, if she was shocked at the confession, made no indication that she was. In fact, she said nothing, but simply let Olivia cry for several minutes next to her husband.

"I'm guessing… you either felt like crap and really wanted to make sure Solomon was okay when you wanted to leave the office just now, or you were simply trying to get away from me," Vivian smiled warmly and pushed her glasses along the bridge of her nose. "What have you two come up with?"

Olivia reached for a tissue wiped at her nose, "What do you mean?"

Vivian's brows dipped. Sometimes she really wanted to slug these two. "You two haven't talked about it? You haven't discussed why you felt the need to respond to Solomon in a manner which you clearly wouldn't normally do?"

"We," Olivia shook her head, balled the tissue in her palm and rest her hands in her lap. "We… talked a little bit."

"But my guess is you danced around it, huh?" Vivian licked her lips and looked at Elliot, "Right or wrong?"

He looked at his wife, didn't know anything else but confusion at the moment, "I," he exhaled and shook his head, "I… don't know," he whispered.

Her brow raised and she looked at both of them, a certain sternness in her eyes that was not typically there when she spoke to them, "You two have not discussed the 'why' factor? Unbelievable," she shook her head. "Why do you come to me?"

"What?" Olivia furrowed her brows and sniffled, "What? You know why we come here, Vivian."

"Yep," the older woman nodded, "But I don't understand why you two don't apply things I try to teach you…. Hurts my feelings a bit," she smirked. "So, you've done the unpardonable sin and you don't know why," she asked and tilted her head, "am I right, Olivia?"

Olivia kept silent. Fact was… she knew why. She'd known when her son's voice screeched and pleaded for her to stop hurting him. She knew.

"Elliot?" Vivian asked softly, "Did you manage to get an answer as to why it happened?"

He peered down at the small child, thought of Sam at that age and wondered _why_ he was abused. Why is _any_ child hit? "I… what does it matter _why_ she hit him… she hit him. That needs to change."

"Yet, how can we change if we don't know what we're changing? The _why_ here is very important so, Olivia," Vivian directed her attention to her, "you're gonna have to dig in and get with the program. Why do you think you did it? What were you feeling when you did it? What precipitated it? Wh-"

All the questions were making Olivia's head spin. In fact, while she did talk a little to Elliot all she really did manage to do was confuse _herself._ And since she's the one with the melt-down issues right now, she knows that if she has managed to confuse herself, she has more than likely frustrated the hell out of her husband.

She watched absently as Vivian explained to Elliot the _why factor _and it's importance and she hated herself that she has gotten him in trouble with Vivian again, but then she realized one very important thing.

He really didn't ever ask her why she hit their son. He'd not even attempted it.

Vivian was still talking, still explaining to them that for every problem there is a root that must be dealt with. She was still talking when Olivia turned immediately to Elliot and blurted, "Why _didn't_ you ask me?"

He looked at her and swallowed and a tinge of anger started to burn within him that she was the one that trespassed and he was the one being nailed to the cross during this session.

Olivia seemed to sense this change in his emotion and she turned to face him more fully, her hand resting gently on this thigh, "I'm not upset that you didn't ask, Elliot…. I know it upset you and I believe you when you told me you'd leave… I want to fix this, I do. I just… I'm _curious_ why you _didn't_ ask why?"

Men are supposed to be the protectors and the breadwinners and their children should never hurt under their care. A man should always do what is best for their children and right now, Elliot felt only one thing.

His wife hit Solomon because Elliot lacked concern for him.

Maybe _he_ was _The Why Factor_, because, while he didn't see what triggered Olivia to snap and strike their young son, he was smart enough to deduce that his naked daughter and naked son in the same room, was somehow the cause.

And all Olivia has ever asked of him was that he remove Solomon from the room, that he and Hannah be separated so that nothing _could ever_ happen. He'd argued it though; he insisted that they were brother and sister and should therefore grow up with one another and develop the closest relationship that they could.

He knows now he should have moved Solomon in with the boys. That would have settled his wife, it would have calmed the multiple check-ins during the night on that specific room.

It would have solved so much.

And this would have never happened.

He didn't ask because he already knew that she'd hit Solomon because he and his sister were naked and in Olivia's eyes something inappropriate happened.

No matter how innocent it was.

"I," he exhaled and gently ran the pad of his index finger along his son's cheek. "I didn't ask… because… I duuno," he said softly and tenderly ran his hand over his son's silky hair, Abel's lip curving into a smile pointed solely at his father as his hand gripped his father's free thumb and squeezed tightly.

"Elliot?" Vivian adjusted herself in her seat and uncrossed her legs before recrossing them and assessing his demeanor. "What is it that you are debating telling your wife?"

"Nothing," he responded quickly and looked up at her, "Nothing. I'm here with her and I'm helping her. I'm doing the right thing, now," he protested and Olivia caught the plea in his voice, the stress and the guilt.

She didn't understand this.

She was the guilty one yet it was written clearly across his face. Somehow, he'd figured this was his fault. Yet it was simply hers. Full and blatant. It was her fault. Not his. And she refused to let him believe it was. She could do at least that, couldn't she?

"You've never done the wrong thing, El," Olivia whispered and lightly squeezed his thigh. "I did this. This is my mistake… why-why do you look like you did something wrong?"

Elliot gently adjusted Abel in his arms, held him out in front of his body, looking at the young boy smiling back at his father, a small giggle escaping his gummed mouth before Elliot rested him on his shoulder and he instantly began to suck frantically on his father's shirt.

Gently, Elliot buried his nose against the check of his youngest son and inhaled deeply as if the smell of baby lotion would free him of this guilt.

"Elliot," Olivia continued talking and gently hooked her slender index finger under his chin and tilted his face to look at her. "This… this is all me, El. We're here today because I completely lost control… why do you have such a guilty look on your face? Why… why do you look like you're the one that's done something wrong when we both know that you're the only one doing the right thing these days?"

He felt the warmth of Abel's slobber seep into the fabric of his shirt and he didn't care. He didn't care at all. He didn't care that the infant over his shoulder wasn't created by their lovemaking, he didn't care that Abel, wasn't genetically his, but he did care that he'd let his wife down. He'd put too much on her plate without taking some things off.

Like moving Solomon out of that room.

Slowly, Vivian watched as his blue eyes dejectedly met his wife's confused gaze, "I'm sorry, Olivia."

"Time out," Vivian immediately interjected before Olivia could take a breath to ask why.

Elliot buried his face back into Abel, finding it ironic that he wasn't so sure he wanted Abel in his life, but now, feeling as miserable as he did, Abel was more like his shield. One that he held over his body and hid his tired and worn down heart against hoping that his purity and innocence could some how jump start his own heart, some how give it the jolt of electricity it needed to beat like it once did.

Vivian took her glasses off, tapped her lips with the black stem, "You didn't answer the question, Elliot."

Irritated at the older woman for cutting him off when he finally had the guts to admit he'd let his family down… again, he snapped, "I'm not the bad guy here, damnit! I'm not. I did a bad thing, but it wasn't because I thought anything would happen, or because-"

"What bad thing?" Olivia tilted her head, her brows furrowed in confusion and her eyes darting between her husband and Abel, "Elliot?" she shook her head, "what are you talking about?"

Abel began to fuss, not understanding that his father was trying to gain some sort of footing with the woman who would grow to become his mother. Olivia watched, still in wonderment as Elliot cradled the small life in his arms and slowly stood, bouncing gently and cooing the crying infant back into his land of happiness. Elliot certainly wished he could join him.

Once Elliot was certain Abel was calm, he slowly reclaimed his seat and smirked at Vivian, "He likes it when I stand up with him… I think he likes the motion when I walk around with him, you know?"

Vivian smiled and took into consideration Olivia's face, took into consideration the surprise and the confusion and all of the other emotions that there weren't necessarily names for but which shone clear as the afternoon sun in Olivia's eyes. She allowed the silence to continue for a few more seconds and then pounced.

"Elliot," Vivian said softly. "No one here believes that you've done something bad… care to enlighten us as to why you feel that way?"

His lips rested tenderly on the forehead of his boy for yet another fraction of time before he peered back at Olivia, "I'm… sorry I didn't move Solomon into the boys' room, Liv… I know you'd been asking me-begging me- to do it and I just…" he shook his head, exhaled and looked back at Vivian as Olivia's face registered nothing else except pure shock.

"I dropped the ball on her," he told Vivian. "This is my fault, it's not really hers I just… they're babies and I wanted them to have that bond, you know?"

Vivian arched a brow, looked at Olivia, "You look shocked…. Did you want to say something?"

Olivia moved impossibly closer to her husband, her hand resting at the back of his neck, her lips pressed tenderly against his cheek, "This isn't your fault. It's not and I can't-won't let you take ownership for it Elliot… This… this is my screw-up."

"She's right, you know," Vivian smirked and put her glasses back on, "you're wife is the one that dropped the ball, Elliot. Not you. Don't take that blame. Let her."

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"Isaac?" Sam called into the locker room, as his flip flops popped against the soles of his feet while he wrapped his towel around his narrow waist. "Come on bro, don't be mad dude. I'm sorry."

Isaac sat sadly on the bench across from his own locker that his parents had set up, complete with a big picture of Spider-Man on the front so he'd know exactly where to go to get changed. He was fully aware that his brother couldn't see him, and if he wanted to keep it that way, he'd have to sit really super still and not say a word. He's not so sure he can do that.

"Isaac?" Sam called again, a touch louder as he lightly grazed the lockers with his hand as he walked slowly, "Come on, Rookie… I know you're in here, you wouldn't go anywhere without me," Sam smirked, " 'Cause you love me…"

"Not anymore, stupid-butt," Isaac grumbled from the bench, his fist holding up his chin.

Sam smirked, dropped his hand from the lockers and rested his hands on his waist, "Come on, Rookie…. You know you love me."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Not."

"Do."

"Stupid."

"Cool."

"Ahhh!" Isaac grumbled, "Stupid, dork! You're 'posed to call me a name!"

Sam chuckled, "I did. I called you cool"

Isaac let out an angry growl, irritated and confused as to why his brother would lie to him. His brother never lied to him. Never. Not about the fact that spinach tastes like dookie, not about the fact that he splashes too much when he swims and not about the fact that he loves him even though he really likes to butt-in when he's with Crystal.

Sam has never lied to Isaac.

And their mother has never hit either of them.

He's just as confused about his mother as he is about the absence of his aunt in his classroom.

"Cheater," Isaac muttered. "You're a big ole' liar and now you're a big ole' cheater-fart-head, too!"

Slowly, careful not to slip on water that lingered about the cement of the locker room, Sam pulled his towel off and draped it on the bench.

"And you wear underwear like Sister," Isaac quipped, frowning at his brother's Speedo.

"You sure like to call me names, when you're pouting," Sam said gently, knowing full well his little brother had every right to be upset with him. He sat down on his towel and reached for Isaac's form.

"Don't touch me with your liar cooties!" Isaac snapped and pulled back from his brother.

Sam exhaled, "Dude, shut up. Come on. Don't be a baby."

"I'm not a baby!" Isaac huffed, "I'm a big boy!"

"And… what big boy do you know that whines and pouts?" Sam asked, tilting his head.

Isaac opened his mouth to answer just as quick as he possibly could and then realized he had absolutely nothing to answer with and so he went with plan, 'B'. "Oh yeah? Well-well-well, just shut-up why don'tchya?"

Sam chuckled.

"Stop laughin'!" Isaac demanded and his chin started to quiver, "You lied to me brother!" he shuddered and began to cry, wiping quickly at his tears.

Sam didn't need to see to know that his little brother was hurt by his lie. He didn't need to see to know that Isaac was crying and so Sam did exactly what his mother would do when either of them was upset; he stretched out his arm, hooking it around his kid brother.

Who fell into his brother and cried, "Why you lyin' to me, Sammy?" he blubbered.

Sam moved closer to his brother and wrapped him up quickly, his bare skin against his brother's warm play shirt, "I'm sorry, dude," Sam apologized softly, "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"Well ya did!" Isaac pouted but pressed his face against the cool skin of his brother and rested there for long moments before finally wiping at his nose again, "Sammy?" he questioned weakly.

"Yeah, bro?"

"Mommy hit, Solo? For really?"

"Yeah, dude… but… well… I dunno, man. There's probably a reason."

"Mommy says there's never a reason to hit someone. She always says to keep our hands and feet to ourselves. I don't get it."

Sam exhaled, "Me neither… but… maybe mom's heart is a little dark right now."

"Dark?" he asked and pulled back to look at his brother. At five, Isaac was already aware that his brother's physique was not necessarily a typical build for his age. He knew he'd be strong like their father. Strong like Isaac already wanted to be.

"Yeah," Sam exhaled, "you know… you know how when you sleep, you get scared-"

"Do not."

"Isaac," Sam cut him off, "Come on. You know what I'm saying?"

Isaac pursed his lips, "Yeah. Scared. The dark makes me scared."

"Maybe mom is in the dark right now, too. Maybe she's scared."

"Of what?" Isaac asked in curiosity. "Of Solo?"

"Nah," Sam assured him. "I'm kind of scared, too, you know?"

Isaac's eyes widened, "For real?"

"Yeah… mom always said the same stuff to me, too. You know? I've done lots of stupid stuff and she's never done anything to me…. I don't get it either."

Isaac let his feet swing freely before he leaned back into his brother, "Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"But… she loves us, right?"

Sam grinned, "Yeah. Yeah, that I can answer."

Isaac reached down, scratched his knee, "You're 'posed to say you're sorry."

"For what?"

"For lyin' stupid," Isaac said matter of fact.

Sam bit his tongue, forced himself not to correct his little brother right now, "You're right. I'm sorry for lying to you."

"Sammy?"

"I'm not repeating it."

"Sammy?" Isaac tried to hide the mischief edging into his face.

"Yeah?"

"Take me swimming and I'll forgive you."

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"Daddy?" Thomas muttered as his mother lay him gently on the stiff comforter of the motel's bed.

"Shh," she cooed gently, ran her slender fingers through his hair, "go back to sleep, honey."

"I go vroom-vroom, Mommy? Go vroom-vroom. See daddy?"

Alex's eyes dulled and she slowly shook her head, "I'm sorry, honey. We can't see daddy right now."

His face contorted into sadness, "But I'na see him. Pweaze?"

"Baby," Alex whispered gently and slowly removed his tiny shoes, "remember, you and I are on a vacation?"

"But I want Daddy," he whined and rubbed his eyes. "Pweaze?"

"Honey… Daddy, is very far away, right now. I'm sorry. You can't see him."

"We call'em?" he asked in bright hope, a large smile and shiny eyes, "I'na talk wid my daddy."

Alex looked down at her son. What was she doing? What was she doing in some run down motel in the middle of a state she'd never been to? What was she doing without her husband next to her? She'd left without so much as a warning, convinced her son that it would be fun to go on a plane, an adventure, in fact.

She ran her slender hand over his pudgy belly and smiled down at her son softly. She wanted to call Robert too. She wanted to call him and tell him exactly where she was, she wanted to ask him to come and get her. She wanted to ask him to let her come home. She wanted all of those things yet could do none of them.

She is, in this moment profoundly lost and miserable even though she is peering down into one of the greatest joys in her life. She watched the tears spill out of her baby boy's eyes as he pleaded with her to let him see his daddy, to let him talk with him on the phone, to hear his voice.

She wanted to hear his voice.

See him.

Feel his arms around her. Holding her.

She wanted his forgiveness. She did.

So, what was she doing in some cheap motel waiting for the morning to come so she could hop another plane with her child, and flee farther and farther away from everything that she wanted?

Alex rested her palm over Thomas' chest as it heaved with his crying, "Shh, it'll be okay, honey," she assured him.

His screech was raspy and pained and his face was bright red, his mouth agape as he cried for his father and rolled to his side, his small frame curling into a tight ball as he sobbed. Alex stretched out next to him, wrapped her arm around his little body and cried with him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Vivian would like to take a spray bottle to both of them. No, not a spray bottle, a water hose, like the kind firefighters used. She shook her head and leaned her temple against her fingertips for support as Elliot and Olivia tried to figure out who was to blame for her sudden loss of control, for just as soon as Olivia had established that it was her fault, her husband tried to save her and shoulder the blame.

"Did it ever occur to either one of you," Vivian started dryly, "that you may not be here to blame one another? That you may just want to identify the problem and tackle it so you can move on with life? I mean," she exhaled. "Don't get me wrong, it's all very profitable for me to sit here and watch you play hockey with the blame-puck but really… what is it accomplishing when all three of us know that we are responsible for our own actions?"

Olivia swallowed, "I never said I wasn't."

Vivian shrugged, "Never said otherwise, I'm merely suggesting that we stop blaming one-another. You both have guilt, but Elliot… yours is in hindsight and you know what they say about that, right?"

Elliot furrowed his brows and nodded quietly, "My wife isn't bad. She just made a mis-"

"Stop protecting her, Elliot," Vivian admonished softly. "She's trying to step up to the plate and take responsibility for loosing her temper… don't take that from her."

Olivia huffed, "So much for not blaming anyone."

"I'm not blaming, Olivia," Vivian assured her, "But the simple fact is this…. You lost your cool and struck your son. You feel guilty. Elliot feels guilt because he thinks by separating the toddlers this would have never happened… but what I don't understand is, what's the middle to this story? Hmm? What happened between Hannah and Solomon that made you feel the need to strike him?"

Olivia stared down into her lap and could not, for the life of her raise her gaze to meet the older woman's. She remained silent, mentally chastised herself for striking her son. Looking back, she knows that Solomon's curiosity had to have been innocent.

Hindsight wasn't just twenty-twenty; it was a bitch.

"Olivia," Vivian exhaled, a spice of frustration sprinkled over her tone, "your options are to discuss what precipitated it, what happened to trigger it or… you may leave."

Olivia's head pulled up sharply, "Leave? Is that what you want?"

"No," Vivian answered calmly, "however; I cannot in good faith sit here and counsel you if you choose to not apply yourself-"

"Hold on," Elliot shifted Abel in his arms and gently patted his back, "that's not fair Vivian. She does apply what you tell us. We talk and she tries and I try… lighten up."

"Stop. Protecting. Her," Vivian reiterated softly.

"Then stop-"

Weakly, Olivia chimed in least the shrink and her husband verbally assault one another, "I-I" her voice crocked and she quickly cleared it and found a stronger version of it, "I… walked into their room and…" she shook her head stared back down at her lap.

"Go on," Vivian encouraged. "You walked in and what?"

Olivia stood and crammed her hands into her pockets as she created as much distance between her and them as she could and rested her head against the window frame just next to the book case. It was gray and overcast and all she wished for was just a touch of sunshine to blanket her face. Warm her chilled soul.

"Liv?" Elliot prodded, turning in his chair carefully to see her.

"The kids," Olivia began again, "they'd just finished in the bath and… Hannah was on her bed with just a towel." Olivia took in a slow, concentrated breath before letting it out. Her voice must have dropped an entire octave if that was even possible in her current state. "Solomon was naked. We don't-I don't-like it when they are around one another without their clothes, you know?" she muttered, not really expecting a reply and when she didn't get one she simply continued, her eyes turning to liquid glass as she struggled to keep her composure. She'd hit her child. Her own son that she'd given birth to, nursed and held in her arms. She'd hit him for his innocent curiosity. "I walked in and Solomon was asking Hannah to let him see her," she confessed shaking her head before quickly wiping at a stray tear.

Elliot closed his eyes, suddenly very aware of exactly why his wife had snapped. He'd been right in assuming that something had happened between his two youngest children, but surely Olivia had to know and understand that at three, Solomon had no malice in his actions. She had to know that, didn't she? "Liv… he's-he was-"

"I completely lost my mind," she confessed in a near rasp of breath. She sniffled, turned to face Vivian, not sure if she would be her help or her accuser in this moment. She licked her lips, held her shoulders back and confessed her sin once more. "I hit my son, because… I thought, he was going to hurt his sister," she confessed and braced herself for Elliot's look of disappointment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I wanna go to the deep end," Isaac proclaimed as he held his brothers hand and led him to the pool. Who was leading who? Between the two brothers they would never say which was which.

"How does it feel to want?" Sam chuckled and squeezed his brother's hand.

"I'm telling dad you let me in the pool, then," Isaac snipped.

"Fine," Sam shrugged, "then I just won't put you in the pool. How's that?"

Isaac's eyes widened, "Come on!"

"Well," Sam laughed, "if you're gonna get me grounded for not listening to mom and dad by putting you in the pool… then I'm not putting you in –"

"Okay! Okay! Gosh!" Isaac groaned, "Okay, I'll go with you."

Sam grinned, felt the slight incline of the pool's edge and sat down, "I knew you'd agree with me, Rookie."

"Punk."

"You know," Sam shook his head and lowered himself into the pool, "one day, I'm not gonna be around and you're really gonna wish you'd never been so mean to me." Sam held out his arms for his brother to lower himself into them.

Isaac paused momentarily and sized up the distance, "Farther, brother."

Sam smiled, took a step backwards, "Come on, it's getting cold. I need to move in the water."

Isaac licked his lip, bit his bottom one, "Okay. Closer now."

"Isaac! Jump!" Sam demanded, still holding out his arms.

"You gonna catch me?"

"Are you serious?" Sam groaned, "Have I ever not?"

"You lied to me… never did that, barf breath," Isaac quipped and slowly edged his tip toes to the pools perimeter once more.

"Come on, Rookie… I said I was sorry. Jump dude. I've always caught you."

"No," Isaac shook his head slowly, not quite sure what to expect from his brother. He lowered himself to the edge of the pool and dipped his feet in letting his legs rest in the water. His mother had put new shorts in his locker and they were super cool, but for the first time since being with his brother in the pool, he wanted his floaters. He'd wished those had been in the locker instead.

"Isaac," Sam furrowed his brow and stepped back to his little brother, his hand out as an offering, "dude, come on. You know I won't hurt you."

"Mom hurt Solo."

Sam licked his lips, "Rookie… come on. Take my hand. You wanted to come swimming. I'm taking you swimming."

Isaac rubbed his bare belly and sized up his brother again, "Sure you gonna catch me?"

"Positive."

"Sure?" Isaac whispered softly, his finger running circles around his belly button.

"If I don't catch you, you can tell mom I put you in the pool against your will."

"Not talkin' to Mommy, no more," Isaac said flatly and slipped his bottom off of the pool's edge. Never once taking Sam's hand.

Which enraged Sam. His brother has always jumped to him to get into the pool. And Sam has always caught him. How is it, that with one small lie, told to protect Isaac's image of their mother, he has inadvertently ruined the trust his brother had in him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gently, Elliot lowered Abel into his car seat and tucked the blue fleece blanket tightly around his small body. He straightened his body and assessed his wife who was currently starring down at the carpet as she leaned against the low window seal. She'd hit their son because, in her mind, Solomon was going to hurt Hannah.

In her mind, Solomon was going to hurt Hannah just as Oliver had hurt her.

Maybe, in all the years that he has known about Olivia's attack, maybe he had never truly understood the tremendous impact it had on her. On her mind. For, if one were to truly know and understand Olivia, if one were to know her when she was Benson, then one would understand that her mind is unbendable, unchangeable and unwavering in its strength.

For it to be so shattered in this one area, meant a truly profound devastation. It meant a tremendous trespass on her spirit, her soul.

Maybe, in all the years he has spent as an SVU detective, he has barely understood what rape truly meant.

Total devastation.

That, maybe never truly heals completely, but presents its self as a wound in different ways of life. In the fear of accepting love, becoming a wife, mother. The fear of accepting Abel.

Elliot slowly closed the gap between he and his wife and he didn't care if Vivian wasn't going to allow it. He'd tell her to bug-off. He watched, as he took slow and almost timid steps, the tears fall from her bowed head. She made no motion to wipe them but simply blinked and let them fall as she gripped the window's ledge and held her self steady.

"Olivia," Elliot's voice reached into her chest and pulled out a sob that she quickly covered her mouth to silence. She was loosing her mind, slowly but surely and she didn't know what to do.

He furrowed his brows, wrapped his arms around her and held her, let his hand tangle in her now short hair as he ducked his neck to kiss her cheek, "I love you, Olivia."

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Paul Novak took in a slow, controlled breath and slowly let it out as he stood just outside The Gray's home. He winced at the thought. Whose home was it now? He'd just gotten off of his cell with Casey who frantically informed him that Alex was nowhere to be found. That the last lead she had on their friend was absolutely nothing. So, if Alex was nowhere to be found, then whose home was this that he stood in front of?

Should he continued to call it The Gray's or is it now solely Robert's? Would Alex come back with Thomas to make it The Gray's once more or would the address find itself in the For Sale section of the paper?

Paul pushed the frame of his glasses up along the bridge of his nose and he understood what the devastation of loosing your spouse could do to someone. He did. He knew it so well. Which is exactly why he's not surprised at all that as he stands in front of the entry door, it is agape, the hall illuminated only by a pathetic ray of a cheap light bulb.

Was it betraying Alex if he were to comfort Robert? Surly bailing him out of jail was indeed a betrayal but, would this be turning the knife in his friend's back? Would it be betraying Robert if Paul did not go into the home? Whose home is it? He's not sure what to do and he wished to himself that Casey was alongside of him, they were always a better team when they were together.

Where was Elliot and Olivia? The four of them would be needed to fix this rift between their friends. Was it a rift? He exhaled, hooked his hand around the back of his neck, his gut told him this wasn't simply a rift, this was total marital meltdown and his wife was frantically looking for Alex and Elliot and Olivia were not at their business nor were they answering their phones.

Which left him, to pick up the pieces of the shattered man that had walked away from him once his freedom was paid for. He'd given him some time, an hour or thereabouts and then returned to his home, or Alex's home, or whosever home it was now, and was relieved to see that someone was indeed there.

But he was unsure of who he was betraying in this moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She hadn't necessarily pushed Elliot away, so much as placed her palms on his chest to give herself some space. How could he say he loved her when she was a complete and total psycho? Happy one minute and depressed the next. How could he want to hold her, comfort her when she desired him one moment and couldn't respond to him the next?

"Don't push me away, please?" he said softly and tried to lower her hands to which she resisted and shook her head, her fist balling his shirt. "Olivia-"

"Don't tell me you love me, Elliot," she sniffled and shook her head, trying desperately to keep his love away from her because she did not, according to her, deserve it. "You can't tell me you love me, like it's gonna magically fix everything."

He closed his eyes, clenched his jaw in frustration, can't she see how much this kills him? He can take the ups and downs. He can. He can take those and even a few unexpected curve balls. But he cannot accept or tolerate not being able to tell his lover that he in fact loves her. Just as she is. He cannot. Will not.

He doesn't open his eyes, but gently pries her fingers from around his shirt, knowing that there will be two masses of wrinkles when they leave, but he doesn't care. Not at all. Instead, he manages to separate her hands from his chest and lower them to their sides. She'd struggled with him all the way, but finally let him guide her hands away from him as he slowly rested his forehead against hers, "Then what can I tell you, Olivia?" he whispered, not in anger or frustration or anything else other than the pure love he always exudes to her. "What can I tell you? Because, the only thing that I know right now, the only thing that is unshakable is that I love you."

Olivia sniffled, licked the tears from her lips and brought her hands back up, wrapped them around his neck and cried. Hard. She held to him tightly and cried in a way that he'd never known could come out of his wife. She literally broke into nothing and he held her tightly about the waist as she coughed against his skin, struggled to gain breath only to let out more anguished sobs that didn't seem to have an end in sight.

Vivian leaned back in her seat, for once, Olivia Stabler, was right where she needed to be.

Completely and overpoweringly broken.

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The glass crunched under the weight of his body and Paul wondered momentarily if this is what the Stabler's home must of looked like the night he and his wife were attacked there. He wondered if when Elliot and Olivia walked through the threshold, glass scrunched under their shoes.

He wondered if it brought them the same sense of worry it brought him in this moment right now. "Robert?" Paul called gently into the foyer, "Robert? Are you here? I was wondering if you might like to come have dinner with Casey and-"

Paul's jaw dropped once he's entered the livingroom. Or battle ground. Nothing was as it once was. Nothing. "R-Robert?" Paul questioned and took a cursory glance around the home. Total destruction had come and wreaked its havoc and now appeared to be sitting on the couch, surrounded by empty bear bottles. "Robert?" Paul peered over him, gently touched his shoulder, "You passed out or what?" he asked and shook him with a bit more vigor, relived when his friend came to and looked at him with confusion.

"Al?"

Paul's brows dipped, he shook his head in slight shock that Robert was this far gone. "N-No, man. It's me. It's Paul… what happened to your place?"

Robert looked up at Paul and his breath smelt of booze, "Al… she didn't call you? Maybe Casey or the Stablers?"

Paul slowly shook his head, "No. I'm sorry, I haven't heard from her and the Stablers seem to have dropped off the map for a while."

Robert nodded miserably and slowly reached for a near empty bottle of liquor. He downed what was left and then promptly threw it with all the anger he possessed at the wall of their living-room, "I hope she damn-well dies!" he growled and reached for another, launching it and going for a third, "I hope that damn whore dies!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She hadn't let up. Not in her tears and certainly not in the hold she had around her husband's neck and shoulders. Elliot didn't know what in the world was happening in this moment. The only thing he knew was that if he could sell his soul to set hers free.

He would. At the drop of a hat.

She hiccupped against him and squeezed him tighter. "I don't know what's happening to me," she sobbed. "I wanted a baby and we have one and I don't know what to do with him."

He tried to sooth her and she shook her head against him, cutting him off, "I have everything and I suddenly feel…. So alone," she wept. "And Solomon… he-he-he didn't deserve anything," she cried. "He didn't. I'm so sorry, Elliot. I am. I-"

"You're not alone, baby," he whispered into her ear. "You're not. I'm here with you. I'll walk right alongside of you with whatever it is that has you this upset. I will. I'll take it all on for you. But, you're not alone. I promise."

She sobbed harder and he didn't understand why. He's not a cocky man who pretends to know how a woman's mind works but for the most part he does understand how his wife's mind works and he has for the most part always been able to sooth her with his whisper. Sooth her with his promises, but now, here in the presence of their shrink, he is failing her miserably and his whisper seems to hurt her all the more and he doesn't understand why that is.

"H-how," he starts his question and he's not entirely sure he wants to know the answer, "h-how have I made you feel alone? How have I overlooked you?"

She sniffled, seemed out of energy to cry anymore, but refused to look up, as he held her, "You haven't," she said simply and shook her head against him again. "I told you… it's not you."

He just didn't understand. Nothing about the past weeks did he understand. He didn't understand why God would make it so that he couldn't give his wife a child. He didn't understand why Oliver saw fit to ask her to raise his. He just Did. Not. Understand. Anything. Nothing that had happened in the last several weeks. Nothing, except that he loved his wife.

"If it's not me that makes you feel alone… then let me help you, Liv. Let me understand what's happening. Let me fix it and make it better, I-"

She'd pushed him away. Definitely and hard and as quick as possible so that she could separate herself from him, "You can't make it better!" she snapped, her fingers running through her hair.

"Why not!" he demanded, "Why?" I'm your husband and you're my wife and… I can make it better if you would just tell me _what_ to make better," he shrugged, holding his hands out as if to tell her he was at a lost, and he was.

"Elliot!"

"Just tell me how!" he shouted at her, unwilling to let her sink.

She turned on him. Instantly. He'd never seen anything like it from her. At least not geared toward him. Her eyes burned with something he'd hadn't seen from her since they were partnered and she was about ready to break some poor bastard's wrist.

Vivian sat. A silent observer. Olivia was an expert at dodging and finessing Vivian's questions. If this was how it had to be. Then so be it.

"Liv-"

"You want to know how you can make it better, Elliot?" she asked and her voice was deceptively calm. But he knew better, he knew that she was coiled and ready to strike and he was the unfortunate mouse, too stupid to move. Or too in love.

He swallowed. _A little help Vivian. Anytime you want to jump in. _"I just want to understand-"

"Understand?" she scoffed and her smile was bitter. She shook her head, "You can't take it from me because you'll never understand it!" she barked. "You can't! So leave me the hell alone!" she hollard and was so focused on creaming Elliot she'd failed to see that Vivian had quietly passed Abel off to the awaiting receptionist, and returned to her seat.

"What can't I understand!" Elliot barked. Pleaded. Tried desperately to get her to communicate because he didn't understand a word she was saying.

"Rape!" she yelled, her hand's out in front of her, the chords of her neck tense, "You'll never understand it! You don't get it!"

He was a little taken back. "I don't understand it?" he asked, clearly insulted. "I worked it, Olivia. Right next to you!"

"No!" she pointed accusingly at him and she herself didn't understand where this was all coming from. Two months ago, she was fine. A slight problem in the bed, but she was fine. "No, you know the mechanics of it! You know the law and you see the victims, Elliot, but-"

"But what!"

Sanity was nowhere to be found in her eyes, yet hostility and pure unmodified anger clearly made itself known in her body language. "But you'll never know what it's like to have someone inside of you when you don't want them!" she screeched and the tears flowed so much faster and so much hotter, "You can't take it from me because you can't erase the sound of his body against mine, or his scent or anything else from that night! You can't! You can't understand it because you don't know it!" she yelled and she herself never knew her voice could escalate the way it did. She never knew her throat could hurt like it did.

"Oliv-"

She shook her head, her rant still hot and deliverable, "You wake up and your confidence is there. I wake up and I have to build up to it! I have to convince myself every damn morning that I can be your wife and that I can be a mom that-that-that I'm not damaged-"

"YOU'RE NOT!" he bellowed and dared to take a step closer to her.

"I AM!" she screeched back and pointed wildly at nothing as she spoke, "The second he thrust his disgusting body into me! The second my body tore! The second he cut me! The second and third and fourth time he thrust into me I was damaged! Don't you see that?" she hiccupped and covered her heart with her hand, her voice dropping, her eyes searching his, "It destroyed me, Elliot. You'll never-you could never take that feeling from me because, it's never happened to you."


	23. Talking Circles

Silver Lining

Silver Lining

Talking Circles

Was the room actually spinning? He needed to sit down. Slowly, he lowered himself to the chair and took in a breath, felt the warmth of his tear fall down his cheek. In some ways she was right. He couldn't take the pain away. He couldn't. He swallowed the lump in his throat and moved to look at her. Stopped mid-way. "I've… I've never been raped, Liv. You're right about that, but… you're wrong, too. I understand destruction," he said hoarsely and looked at her. "I understand destruction. Maybe-maybe not the way you do, but I understand it from begging for my life, and I understand it from being in a chair and not being able to give you a baby… I understand being destroyed. I do. And you're wrong about one more thing, baby… I can take that hurt away- you just won't give it to me."

She softened in the wake of her madness because her husband was right. He may not understand the devastation of rape the way she does but he does understand devastation. "Elliot-"

"That's what this is all about, isn't it?" he looked up at her. "You don't have anyone to relate to, to gauge if… if what you're feeling is normal. Is that… is that what this is about?"

She scoffed, flopped her body down next his and exhaled in misery, "Elliot, I gave up on normal a very, very long time ago."

"Well," Vivian smiled and motioned to their seating arrangement, "I see we're all back to where we started."

Elliot and Olivia stared at her without humor.

"Right," Vivian nodded, "I think I finally found the line with you two that I'm not supposed to cross. Right. Duly noted. However; Olivia," Vivian started immediately, seeing no reason to let them lick wounds just yet, "have you told him what we've been talking about?"

Enraged again, Olivia stood, "I said no. and I damn well meant it!" she growled.

Elliot's brows perked, "What'd I miss?"

Vivian leaned back in her chair, "Cat's out of the bag, Olivia. He is now very much aware of your loneliness in terms of being the victim-"

"I'm not a victim!" she snapped, walked in a tight nervous circle and ran her hand through her hair.

Elliot watched his wife. She was going absolutely mad like a rabid animal. Pacing, snapping, shouting.

"I'm not a victim!" she reiterated and held her head at her temples. "I'm a little… jumbled right now is all, alright?"

"You hit your child," Vivian reminded.

"I KNOW THAT!"

Elliot cringed at her outburst, not knowing what to expect next but if he told the truth, he'd say, he was learning a lot about a rage she'd never shared with him. Maybe on the surface, maybe a few tears, but never this. Never this loss of control.

Vivian took in another breath. "Then what in the hell are you going to do about it, Olivia? Because I'm sorry, but you don't seem to be the type of woman who sits on her ass and throws a damn pity party and I'm thinking- that's exactly what you're doing right now-"

"Back off!" Elliot snapped at the woman.

Vivian eyed him, and promptly crossed the line, "I've told your wife to go to group counseling for rape survivors. She's being stubborn as hell about it. She needs it."

Olivia looked at the woman in shock, "I can't believe… I can't believe you just said that."

"Believe it beautiful. I'm done with this. You'd better sit your ass down and focus on what you want. Look at him, Olivia."

Olivia's eyes, no matter how much she told them otherwise, couldn't stop boring a hole into Vivian's skull. "That was my personal session, Vivian. You had no right."

"Just as you have no right to sabotage yourself. Look. At. Him," she demanded again. "Look at the surprise on his face and tell me that he didn't need to hear everything that is being said. He's not a bloody mind reader. He's your husband and the only way he can walk with you is if you damn-well take his hand and maybe, just maybe point him in the right direction!"

Olivia's bravado faded just as quickly as it had formed. Silently and dejectedly she reclaimed her seat and stared at her lap.

With a much softer prodding Vivian reminded her, "I said, look at him, Olivia… he needs to know. You've got to help him out."

Olivia waited long moments and slowly brought her gaze to his. She looked away, passed his shoulder and swallowed, slammed her eyes closed and opened them slowly, "Sometimes," she started, her voice fragile, just hanging on, "sometimes, I'm okay. Most of the time I am," she nodded.

"And the other times?" Elliot asked and moved his chair closer to hers. "What about those times?"

"The other times… are dark. But, I can get by."

He shook his head, looked at Vivian and then his wife, "But, not this time? What's different about this time?"

She licked her lips, bit her bottom one and lowered her head. Her lap was intriguing. "Abel is different about this time."

He shook his head, "Okay. That's fair. That's fair. I get that… but, Liv… that's not all were here for, I mean… honey, I- well, you've said it yourself, Liv. You're a mess, I mean, Solomon and the laundry room and-" he stopped when she looked up at him. Her eyes clearly stating he was preaching to the choir. "I'm sorry," puffed out a breath and took her hand. Squeezed it gently.

"Is it bad? Is it wrong?" Olivia's head snapped to Vivian.

Vivian raised a brow, "Is what wrong?"

"Wanting Abel, but not knowing how to separate him from… everything else?"

Vivian smiled compassionately, "I'd say, under all the circumstances, it's normal to feel confused about him."

Elliot squeezed her hand again, "I want him, Liv. I do. I love him."

She pulled her hand back to her lap and bowed her head again.

"Olivia?" Vivian prodded.

Olivia shook her head, "I feel like… like I'd just… gotten my life back together. I, I have this amazing family, great husband and… and I'm so scared that… that Abel is going to take that from me."

"Because his father took from you?" Vivian suggested.

"Liv?"

"I worked," she swallowed, "I worked so hard, so hard to get my life back on track… I worked just… just to look normal to everyone else and…I…I finally had some control over my life and I was happy and now…" she shook her head and her voice was so tender with emotion. "Now, it feels… I feel like I did, the day I woke up in the hospital."

"And how was that?" Vivian led as Elliot listened, his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles.

Olivia sniffled, looked up at the older woman, "Scared. Scared and… helpless. He-he took everything from me, you know? Everything."

"Not our future, Liv," Elliot said softly. "Not our future… we got to get through this. We do and I'll take you to any meeting you need to go to and I'll be there with you or wait outside or drop you off or just trust you to go, but… If you just need someone to relate to or-"

"Because there's a lot of women raising their rapist's child?" she scoffed and shook her head. "No one can relate to that, Elliot. No one. And yes, I do feel alone in that. I do and I don't know how to get past it. I don't know how to fix the fact that I only _sometimes_ want Abel, I don't know how to fix that I only _like_ him or that despite me wanting to be intimate with you my body doesn't respond and I don't know how to explain to you that I loved and enjoyed every second in the laundry room, but yes, it confused the hell out of me and the deck was just as confusing…. I don't know a lot of things right now, Elliot and it scares the hell out of me."

"What happened in the laundry room that you didn't respond to your husband, Olivia," Vivian asked softly, fully aware that she'd prevented Elliot from responding to her ramblings but Olivia had slipped. She'd inadvertently let something go without realizing it and Vivian would pounce. Immediately.

"Vivian," Elliot admonished softly. "Come on. Let her breathe a little, please? She-"

"Olivia," Vivian continued over him, "answer the question, please?" Olivia ran her hand through her hair and closed her eyes taking in a deep breath and sat silently, trying to figure out what it was that she wanted to say. Needed to say.

"Vivian," Elliot tilted his head to look at her, "I said she's had enough, today-"

"I did respond to him," Olivia rasped, her shoulder rising in a shrug of uncertainty and embarrassment.

Vivian looked between the two of them, confused. "Okay… I must not have brought my A game because you two are confusing the hell out of me," she smirked and leaned over, a Kleenex offered to Olivia. "Are you upset because you responded to him in a place that wasn't your bedroom? Was it the environment that-"

"No," Olivia shook her head, wiped at her nose and crumpled the Kleenex in her hand, "No… we've been… we've been intimate in other places that aren't the bedroom… its just… we've never, I mean, I didn't mind, in fact, I enjoyed it-"

She stopped when Elliot groaned and bowed his head. Clearly, he wanted to say something, but was holding off.

"Elliot?" Vivian peered over her glasses at him.

"It's nothing," he shook his head and bit his bottom lip.

"I feel like he's upset with me because I can't tell him _clearly_ what is happening. I can't… I can't figure it out in terms that aren't complicated… I think it upsets him," Olivia confessed and stood back up. Quickly made distance between them again.

"I'm not upset," Elliot muttered. "I'm not… I just… I just don't get it, Liv."

Olivia crammed her hands into her pocket and stared out the window, "Makes two of us."

"Three actually," Vivian exhaled and looked at Elliot. "Are you upset with your wife, Elliot?"

"No!" he said adamantly, "I just told you that! I just told her that! Why doesn't anyone listen to me, damnit!" he snapped and covered the sides of his head with his palms, bent forward on his knees and growled in frustration.

"Please don't be mad, Elliot," Olivia whispered and turned to prop herself back against the window's sill.

He continued to sit forward, stared down at his shoes and made a mental note to buy another pair before the soles completely separated from his current pair, "I'm not mad, Liv. I just," he exhaled a long breath and rolled his head back, stared up at the ceiling. "I'm not mad. I'm in love with you, Liv. I'm in love with you and I want to help you but… damn, you're stubborn."

She smirked to herself, caught the slight tone of teasing in his voice and slowly closed the distance between them. Leaned over and hugged him from behind, kissed his cheek softly, "I'm… I'm not being stubborn, Elliot. Not on purpose… I'm scared."

He covered her hands with his and squeezed gently, "Then sit with me, baby. Sit here with me and let's figure this out. Please, Liv?"

She exhaled, hid her face in his neck for a long moment before separating and walking around to sit in her seat once more. She sat slowly and looked at Vivian before ducking her head, "I'm-I'm sorry."

Vivian smirked, "No big deal. Just charge you a little extra for being pissy," she teased and took a deep breath. "Well, then. I think, I'm starting to piece things together a bit… Olivia, are you having some intimacy issues?"

Olivia scoffed, thumbed her brow, "A subscription."

Elliot gently covered his wife's hand again. Prayed silently that she wouldn't pull away from him again. He let his thumb rub softly against her skin and waited patiently for Vivian to guide them because as much as he wanted to be the one to help his wife. She was right, he would never take Oliver's scent from her memory. He'd never be able to erase the sound of his body against Olivia's and he could never be able to truly shoulder the burden of rape.

For the first time in his marriage, he was faced with the overwhelming reality that his touch, no matter how much Olivia wanted it, wouldn't fix the pain she endured. How she has gotten along for all of these years is beyond him. He wants to help her, sooth her, help her heal and be whole. What had happened in the last few months that caused her to totally loose all that she'd worked for? Or had he just been so naïve to think that his love making would heal her, that his whisper would provide a soothing balm to her soul?

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Vivian started, "But what I'm hearing is that Olivia is having a bit of difficulty with intimacy and… would it be safe to say, this might have culminated into a frustration that led to the situation with Solomon? Could the frustration with that and the confusion over Abel have been a trigger?"

Olivia snapped to attention, her eyes scanning the floor, "Where is he? Where's Abel?"

"Relax," Vivian smiled warmly, "the receptionist came for him when it got a little loud."

Elliot shifted uncomfortably, they'd fought loud enough that Vivian felt the need to take Abel into a safer environment.

"Olivia?" Vivian directed her attention to her, "let's start with the intimacy. What are you feeling the struggle might be?"

"I don't know."

Elliot squeezed her hand, "Liv… come on. Come on."

She exhaled, shrugged her shoulders again, "I don't know! I can't be specific. There isn't a date or time, El. It's not like I can say that April 15th at 2pm is when I started to feel unattractive-"

"Unattractive?" he turned and faced her. "Liv… baby, you are so sexy."

She shook her head, puffed out a breath and looked over his shoulder at nothing, "You're biased, El."

"I'm not biased. I'm right. You're hot, Liv. I… I see the way guys look at you when I take you out. Believe me. I see it," he smirked and squeezed her hand. "I see it and as much as I hate that they look at you… I know that if I were them, I'd rubberneck, too."

"Olivia," Vivian licked her lips and settled more comfortably in the chair, certain that Olivia would be staying for at least a few more minutes. "When was the last time, you felt sexy? Not the last time Elliot said you were sexy or he made you feel sexy, but when was the last time you felt it? On your own?"

Olivia mulled it over in her mind for a long moment, "I think… I think the last time I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I was attractive was… well… I guess it was… I-I don't remember."

Elliot's brows rose in shock and he couldn't stop himself, "What am I doing wrong? What? Tell me? I'll fix it. I mean, I touch you and I hold you and I tell you all of the time that you're beautiful and that I love you. What am I missing? Tell me, I'll fix it," he pleaded.

"El," the corner of her mouth rose slightly that he wanted so badly for her to be a healthy being. "You've done nothing wrong, I promise. She asked me when I felt sexy apart from you and I can't remember."

"But you can remember feeling better about yourself with your husband?" Vivian asked.

Olivia beamed and it surprised everyone in the room, "Absolutely. How can you not feel desired when his hands are on you?"

Elliot was totally confused now and both women saw it. Olivia didn't know how to explain it to him and so she looked to Vivian for help. Again.

"Olivia, how long has it been since you haven't been able to respond to Elliot when you two are making love?"

Her smile fell and for a moment Elliot wished Vivian had waited just a little longer to ask the question just so he could see the smile. Feel it lighten his heart.

She picked at her nails in nervousness, "A while… hit and miss."

"Hit and miss?"

"Yeah."

"So, there were still times that were enjoyable?" the older woman asked.

Olivia's smile was mischief, "It's always enjoyable. I just… don't know how to explain that."

"What?"

"That… I still enjoy being with him, even though I don't climax. I still appreciate the intimacy and the trust. I…" she turned and covered his thigh with her hand, "I still enjoy you, Elliot."

"Then," he tilted his head, "I don't understand what's going on, Liv. Please, I need laymen's terms here. I'm drowning."

"Olivia?" Vivian nodded sharply, "Go ahead. Talk to him."

She bit her bottom lip, exhaled, "I… I'm getting older, Elliot. My hair is graying and breasts aren't where they're supposed to be and… I don't know, my last birthday… it just, it dawned on me that… you could do better, you know? You could have any woman you wanted at any time and I just… I feel like I can't compete with young, skinny women…I don't…I don't want to loose you."

Slowly, his lips separated into a smile and a chuckle rumbled through his chest. She was taken aback and anger flashed over her face that he wasn't taking her serious. She was confessing to him finally that her last birthday had made her hyper-aware that he was a sexy man that could have anyone yet somehow wanted her.

An almost forty, saggy boobed, gray haired psycho.

"Screw you," she muttered and turned back in her chair, her arms just about to cross in anger over her chest when she felt her hand being pulled to him. His other hand hooking her neck and turning her mouth to him.

In an instant he was kissing her, showing her with his kiss that she was his universe and in his universe she was perfect. He broke away abruptly and smirked, "You're ridiculous if you think I want some stick in the mud woman. I want you baby. Just you. Always and only."

"El-"

"Is that why you want the surgeries?" he blurted.

Olivia closed her eyes, groaned, "What is it with you two and blurting information out?"

"Surgeries?" Vivian questioned.

"She wants a boob job and some kind of vagio-pedal-contact… thing," he fumbled for the correct term. "I don't think she needs it. I don't. Help me out here Vivian. She shouldn't get a surgery because she thinks she's not good enough for me. That's a mind over matter thing isn't it?"

"Well… Olivia?" Vivian pushed her glasses up again, "Why are you considering the surgeries?"

"I cant' believe I'm having this conversation."

"Well," Vivian smirked, "we could always tell Elliot more things from your private sess-"

"Stop!" Olivia held up her hand to their counselor, "one catastrophe at a time, please."

"Then?" Vivian prompted and Elliot anxiously awaited.

"I just," Olivia shook her head, "is it wrong to want to look good for your husband?"

"But you're not doing it to look good for me, Liv. You're doing it so that I won't stray and that's not very fair at all. I've never given you any reason to suggest that your body isn't sexy as hell or that you don't make me loose control every time I look at you. Never."

"Elliot-"

"And you know what else, pisses me off about this?" he asked and although he declared his anger it never registered in his body language, "What really pisses me off is that you think it's just your body that I care about and that's not fair either. I mean, did it ever occur to you that maybe, _just maybe_ I fell in love with you because you thought for yourself? Did it ever occur to you that I fell for you because your laugh is sexy and your eyes are bright and your heart is huge?… I didn't fall for you because your breasts are a certain way or your hair is a certain color, Liv. I fell for you because you are gentle and a spit-fire at the same time… You're physique was icing on the cake," he teased her and slowly raised her hand to his lips, kissed it gently, "Don't turn me into a shallow man by thinking I only wanted you for your body. Please don't make me into a shallow man, Olivia."

"You don't think I'm old?" she asked softly, "You don't think… I mean, I see the women at the gym look at you. I see them talk to you and the one girl asked specifically for you to train her. Come on, Elliot."

"But don't you also see that I pawned her off on Santos? Don't you also see that the women who talk to me at the gym get short answers and I always come home to you? Don't you see that Liv? I don't care about them. They don't do it for me."

"You gave her to Santos?" she smiled softly, "really?"

"Yeah, as soon as I realized she was more into me than training… I don't like that type of person, Liv. Someone who hits on a married person… no. I don't want them around me."

Olivia nodded but Vivian was unconvinced.

"Why can you not believe what he's telling you, Olivia? Why are you struggling?"

"I believe him," she said weakly, "I just… I'm scared that… that I'm robbing him of some type of sexual gratification and… that… eventually he'll look somewhere else for it."

He was going to go irate. "Somewhere else?" he ground his teeth, clenched his fist.

Her response was immediate, "Not that your cheating. Just that… if my body isn't satisfying you, that.. you might get frustrated with me-"

"Do you feel that way?" Vivian asked. "Is that why you are interested in the vagioplasty?"

Olivia bit the inside of her cheek and blushed, "I… yes. Yes, alright? Fine. I can't feel him inside of me as much as I used to and so… I mean isn't it only obvious that I would wonder if he can feel me? If he's experiencing any type of fulfillment from having sex with me? And if he isn't then shouldn't I want to fix that?"

"But, I am!" Elliot interjected. "I can feel you! Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I can't feel you!" she screeched out of frustration.

"Time out," Vivian interjected and pointed her attention at Olivia, "You've had difficulty in the past correct?"

"Yes," Olivia muttered, "But… I've seen the doctor again, I'm fine."

"You saw the doctor?" Elliot tilted his head and he was angry that she had done something like that without telling him. He was angry that she let herself flail around in misery for as long as she has without letting him in to help her.

"I did," she nodded, "I just… I wanted to make sure it wasn't a medical thing."

"And what did she say?" he demanded his frustration that she has left him out of this intimate loop, growing.

She bowed her head her voice was soft, "That… after a birth… the vaginal walls aren't as strong. That they can also weaken with age. She asked me if our sex life was good."

"And you said?" his asked, his voice unsure as if scared to hear the answer.

"It is," she replied and she hoped that he could hear the honesty in her voice

He threw his hands up in surrender, "Then what is the deal?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose and slammed her eyes shut. Opened them again and shook her head, "I just… after I left I started to wonder if you _were_… enjoying me-"

He groaned, "Liv, you can't take what she said as truth. She was telling you statistics and facts and things that _could happen_. Why didn't you just ask me in the first place?" he pleaded and covered her hand with his. "I mean… I know we started to talk about it a little bit, but-you've-you've totally shut me out and that's not fair."

She pulled her hand from his and crammed it under her thigh, "I-I didn't want you to worry."

"Well I'm officially worried," he exhaled and leaned back in his chair, rolled his neck back and scrubbed his hands over his face before leaning forward on his thighs and exhaling, "I'm very worried that my wife thinks I'm uninterested in her. I'm worried that she wants these surgeries just to please me and that's not at all needed. Not at all."

"Are you hearing him, Olivia?" Vivian asked gently.

Olivia nodded slowly, "Yeah."

"Olivia," Vivian leaned forward, "you've got to figure it out. You're stronger than the woman I'm looking at right now and you need to decide if your insecurities are worth the way you are responding to your husband and children."

Duh. Shit.

Olivia shifted nervously, "I just… I just want to please him. I want h-"

"Say it to him," Vivian suggested a motioned to Elliot. "I'm sure he wants to know just as much as I do."

Olivia rest her hand timidly on Elliot's thigh, "I want to please you Elliot. I want you to be happy in all aspects of our marriage and that includes sexually. I don't want to take anything from you. Not on purpose and not without realizing it."

He cupped her cheek, kissed her mouth softly, "You really want that for me? You want to please me in every aspect?"

Her lips were tight in an effort to stave off more tears as she nodded in agreement, "I do. Just tell me what you want."

He rested his forehead against hers, kissed the tip of her nose, "I want you fight. I want you to fight these thoughts-"

She tried to squirm away and he held her firmly in place, "Fight it, damnit. Fight this ridiculousness. You are my wife. I love you… I'm not looking anywhere else, Liv. I'm not thinking of anyone else. I feel every inch of you and I feel safest with your legs wrapped around me. Fight this absurdity, Liv. Or let it destroy us. You choose 'cause I can't choose for you… for some reason you refuse to believe me."

A small sob escaped her and she leaned in closer to kiss him, slightly surprised when he pulled back, just out of her lips reach, "El?"

"Fight it."

She nodded, "For you-"

"No," he shook his head. "No. For you. Fight it, Liv. Vivian is right, this isn't you. You're not fragile. Five years ago you would have kicked the hell out of this thing," he told her softly and ran his hand through her short hair, "What's happening to you baby? What happened with you when you hit Solomon?"

She pulled away and swallowed, shook her head before sinking into her chair in an effort to hide, "I became my mother."

"How so?" Vivian inquired.

Olivia dipped her head and looked away from the two of them, "I-when I pulled Solomon up- my mind was screaming: _What are you doing? What are you doing? Stop!_ And… all I thought was that I had to protect me from Oliver and I just- I hit him and couldn't stop."

Vivian passed the entire box of Kleenex to Olivia, "Did you hear what you just said?"

She shook her head, "I said I lost control-"

"No," Vivian exhaled, "you said that you hit Solomon to protect _you_ from _Oliver_… Do you feel that you're placing your frustration with Oliver and yourself on your children? You and Oliver were twins were you not?"

"Yes," Olivia exhaled and shrugged slowly, "is it wrong to want to protect Hannah?"

"Even if it means hitting Solomon?" Vivian raised her brow.

Olivia lowered her head, "It was… wrong. So wrong," she rasped. "He was screaming and yelling for me to stop and… all I saw was Oliver and what Solomon could do to Hannah. What he could do simply because he was male and she was female."

Elliot made no motion to speak but covered her hand with his again and continued to let his wife speak.

"My-mother," Olivia's brows furrowed, "she… I'd spilled Kool-Aide on the carpet when I was young. She'd pulled my arm, pulled me up from the floor and… just hit me and hit me and hit me and no matter how much I yelled and begged her to stop. She didn't, and I think… I think I figured out why she didn't."

"Why?" Elliot asked gently.

Olivia licked her lip and raised her shoulder, "Because she couldn't, El. Just like me with Solomon, if you hadn't of been there…" she lowered her head, "I don't think… I'd of stopped. I lost it Elliot."

Elliot looked at Vivian and pleaded for help, pleaded for her to step in because he didn't have anything else to offer.

"Olivia, you need to go to counseling. There is only so much I can offer you. You need to be able to see that other women feel the same way that you do. That they are scared and they sometimes make very bad decisions but they continue to fight…. Somewhere in the past months, you've stopped fighting. When was that?"

Olivia lifted her head and stared at Vivian, "When I found out about Abel. That's when I stopped fighting."

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"Taste good?" Paul asked as he and Robert walked along the leaf laden path in Central Park.

Robert wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, took another bite of the hot dog Paul had purchased him and nodded softly, "Yes."

"You gonna puke it up?"

"Probably," he muttered and took another bite before stopping and looking at his friend, "I-I didn't mean what I said about Al… I was-"

"Pissed off. Angry. Betrayed. Upset… it's okay. I'll never tell her a word."

Robert continued to walk slowly again, "I can't find her. She's not using credit cards… she's smart for a blond, huh?" he smirked bitterly.

Paul nodded, "Alex is just smart. That's how it goes. We marry smart women and then, in the end, we suffer the wrath," he chuckled and took a breath, "Not sure if you know it, but… Casey and I separated for several years-"

Robert's eyes pooled instantly and he sobbed, covered his mouth, "I-I don't want her to be away for years. I don't care what she did. I just want her home."

"She'll come home," Paul assured him. "When it's time. She'll come home."

Robert stopped walking again and shook his head in misery, "What am I going to tell her about the house?"

"The truth," Paul squeezed his shoulder, "the damn martians invaded and you had to take them on by yourself… the house didn't stand a chance."

The corner of Robert's mouth raised, "Stupid ass."

"Watch it," Paul humored, "only Casey gets to call me that-"

"Alex won't come home," Robert said matter of fact. "She wont."

"Why?"

"Because," he exhaled, "she took money and she has Thomas. She has everything she needs, without me."

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"Isn't that when we should be fighting the most?" Elliot asked with a tender squeeze over her hand. "Isn't having Abel in our home supposed to want to make us fight harder so he knows how to face life head on…. Like a Stabler?"

Olivia wiped frantically at a tear, "I don't want to have a child with him, Elliot. I don't."

Elliot furrowed his brow, looked between Vivian and Olivia, "What?"

"Isn't' that what I'm doing by raising Abel?"

"No," Elliot told her adamantly, "No, Olivia. You're not having a child with him. You're having Abel with _me_ and together… together we can do it. I know you want to love him, Liv. I know you do and it'll take time. Maybe a lot of time and hard work, but… you'll look at him one day and you'll love him."

She sniffled, "I won't forgive Oliver. I won't."

"Has anyone suggested you should, Olivia?" Vivian asked.

"Isn't that what I'm doing by accepting his son?"

"No," Vivian smiled softly, "not at all. Do you want my opinion on the matter? It's free. Won't bill you."

Olivia nodded.

"I think it takes a very courageous couple to do what you two are doing. I do. Hell, to be honest I'm not sure I could pull it off my self and as we all know I'm a damn saint. However; what I sense is that you are scared to embrace Abel because by doing so you feel that that means you've forgiven your rapist. I think that you are scared to go to group therapy because you're used to being alone in this and you wont know how to react to healing… you wont know how to react to letting the anger go, because that anger is what has fueled you all these years."

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"Sammy?" Isaac asked as he held onto his brother's neck and let him walk with him in the pool.

"Yeah?"

"You gonna marry Crystal?" he asked with a grin, "Huh? You gonna kiss her and marry her?"

Sam grinned, felt the heat rise in his cheeks, "Shut up, short stack."

Isaac grinned tossed his head back in laughter, "I like her, and she really likes you. You gonna make her happy like daddy makes mommy happy?"

"Isaac, come on," Sam shook his head and exhaled, "she's just a friend."

Isaac rolled his eyes and exhaled, "Sammy?"

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Will mommy come to the pool? I miss her."

"You just said you weren't gonna talk to her"

"I miss her."

"You'll hurt her heart if you don't talk to her, Isaac. Don't do that, man."

"She loves us?"

"Yep."

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Can little boys have two mommies?"

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"Mommer!" Solomon grinned from the floor next to his wooden puzzle and instantly climbed to his feet, ran to his mother. "Mommer!" he giggled and wrapped his arms around her legs, "Where you been?"

Delighted he was so ecstatic to see her she ran her hand through his hair, "Had to take care of something," she said softly and separated his hands to kneel in front of him as Elliot gathered Abel and their belongings. "Did you have fun?"

He giggled in a perfect falsetto voice and rested his hands on her shoulders, "Yeah! I gotted play he readed me eggs and ham."

She grinned and carefully ran her fingers along his cheek, followed his hairline with her finger tips, "I love you, Solomon."

He giggled, almost in hysterics and cupped her face, rested his nose to hers, "I knowed!"

Slowly she stood with him in her arms, still refusing to acknowledge that her three year old had forgiven her by simply sending her to a time out. She kissed his cheek as he rested softly on her shoulder and looked at his father, "Hi Daddy."

Elliot grinned, kissed his son from behind Olivia, "Hi. Missed you little man."

Solomon looked at the bundle in Elliot's arms, "Dat my broder?"

"Yeah," Elliot assured him and gently placed his hand on the small of his wife's back, ushered her through the door and Vivian softly stopped them, handed Olivia a small card and gently patted Solomon's back.

Olivia looked over her son at the older woman and gently let her fingers close over the card stock, a silent thank you given as she and her husband walked out.

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"How come you wear funny underwear?" Isaac asked as he and his brother stood in front of their lockers. Tall and short. Sighted and otherwise.

"It's a speedo," Sam shook his head, "they aren't underwear."

"Look like underwear," Isaac told him and sat on the bench allowing his legs to swing.

"Dry off, dude. You'll get sick."

"Sammy?" Isaac asked and slipped off the bench to drop his wet trunks, "You gonna answer my question?"

"Which one, dude? Everything you say is a question."

"'Bout mommies. You think little boys can have two mommies?"

Sam exhaled, wrapped a towel around his waist and dropped his speedo from under it. "Did you ask mom that?"

"Yeah. She said she's my only mommie."

"Then?"

Isaac sloppily dried his own body with a smaller towel and looked at his brother's torso, then his own, noticed the difference and wondered when he'd get that strong. "But in my dreams, it's a different mommy voice. It's a different mommy."

Sam raised his arm, applied deodorant and deposited the stick back in his locker, "Well," he puffed out a breath, "Sure, I guess little boys can have more than one mommie."

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Vivian's was rough. It was rough on both of them and neither one of them was exactly sure what, if anything, got accomplished. Olivia was quiet as they drove back to the gym, the only sounds in the car were that of Solomon making faces at Abel who simply smiled and cooed at his brother and provided an occasional kicking of his feet to announce just how happy the attention Solomon was giving him made him.

She had remained quiet but their hands had remained laced together, resting quietly between them as she looked out the passenger window at nothing as he negotiated traffic. Elliot knew that asking her 'follow-up' questions wouldn't be a good idea. She would need some time to digest her confessions. Hopefully she would digest them and see how ludicrous they were.

Not sexy? Where did she get that lie from?

"My mommy here?" Hannah asked her father as he picked her up from the bright carpet in the gym's day care.

"What?" Elliot laughed and kissed her cheek, "No hello for you daddy?"

Hannah threw her arms around her father's neck and giggled, "Hi Daddy. You got my mommy or my kitty?"

Elliot laughed softly, "Mommy is in her office working and Solo and Abel are asleep with her."

"I'na see my mommy," she smiled and kissed his beard, "You take me, see her?"

"You know what pumpkin? I think mommy needs some quiet time, I think she needs to be alone, she had a super hard day."

Hannah's brows dipped in disapproval, "But I wan her, daddy."

Elliot grinned ,"I know you do, but can she have just a few minutes to herself?"

Hannah's jaw went slack, "But she loves me, daddy."

Elliot smiled, kissed his daughter's nose, "I know she does, but she needs the quiet."

Hannah threw her head back and covered her face as she groaned, "Ah! I not quiet!"

"Want to play with daddy?"

The corner of Hannah's mouth lifted, "Kay. You get the ball daddy. In'da pirate box."

"Will do, pumpkin," Elliot agreed and lowered his daughter back to the carpet as he walked to the far corner of the room to retrieve the ball his daughter wanted.

Hannah, always taking opportunities as they presented themselves, split the second her father took his first step.

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"Mac!" Casey hurriedly slipped into the booth seat of the small diner, her hair was a mess, she looked frazzled and above all else, she looked like she was on a mission.

"Casey," Mac grinned and leaned back in the booth, "imagine my surprise when you called me a demanded a favor" he chuckled and popped a fry into his mouth.

Casey smiled, ran her hand through her hair and hoped she looked somewhat presentable, "Mac, I've been into every motel, hotel and hostel in the city and I can't find Alex. Anywhere. Come on, where does a woman take a small boy?"

"So you called me and begged for a favor, huh?"

"Only because Finn would have been as fast as a glacier and Carp, well, Carp is still a little new to me. I need you Mac."

"Really?" he waggled his brow and smiled.

Casey rolled her eyes, "Calm down. Not like that."

"That's good," Mac said and dipped a fry into a small puddle of mustard, "'Cause I'm seeing someone."

"What?" Casey's brows raised in surprise. "Who?"

Mac smiled, dipped another fry and popped it into his mouth, "If I told ya, I'd have to kill ya, but I did get the information you wanted from the air ports."

Casey's jaw slacked, "You're amazing."

"It happens," he chuckled and took a bite of his turkey sandwich before wiping his hands on his napkin and handing her a folded packet of papers, "I know a special someone that works for the airport. Big cheese type. It was a bitch to do but we cross referenced the out going flights and focused on the flights that had children on board. Came up with about thirty over the last two days. Happy hunting."

"Thirty?" she furrowed her brows and opened the paper work. "This is gonna take forever."

Mac grinned, "Come on, I heard you were a ball buster. You can do this, easy."

She nodded, "Right." She agreed, "So this girl you're seeing-"

"Not telling you a thing about her," he laughed and dipped another fry.

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Olivia was buried, absolutely buried under paperwork that had accumulated on her desk over the past several days she had decided to not show up to work. Solomon was out like a light on the couch and Abel was happily asleep in the play pin, but it was the gentle knock on the door that caused Olivia to jump, "Come in," she whispered loudly.

"Mommy?" Hannah called as she pushed open the door with a grunt and giggled, "Mommy I come sit with you?"

Olivia grinned and pushed her chair back, turning it towards Hannah, "Absolutely."

Hannah ran to her mother, her dark hair bouncing this way and that way until she managed to wedge herself between her mother's legs and crawl up her body rooting for a comfortable spot. When she found it, Hannah let out a giggle, "Hi Mommy."

"Hi baby," Olivia whispered and kissed her daughters forehead, "how was your day today?"

"Fun. Where my broder?"

Olivia ran small circles over her daughter's back, "Santo's said Sam and Isaac are in the locker room and I have Abel and Solomon asleep… did you nap?"

Hannah cocked a brow, "Yuckies."

"I'll take that as a no."

She giggled again and framed her mother's face with her hands, a giant, sloppy kiss placed on her lips, "Mommy I missded you."

Olivia smiled softly, "I missed you too, Hannah-girl."

Hannah rested her head on her mother's shoulder and yawned, "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you not keep your hands and feetsies to your self?"

Olivia's eyes slammed shut, she'd hoped and prayed and prayed some more that Hannah had forgotten all about it over the last 24 hours, but it would seem that wasn't the case. Olivia sniffled, "I don't have an excuse for you baby. I did a really bad thing, hitting your brother."

Hannah sat back on her mother's lap and looked up at her. Hannah's face was serious, not angry or shocked, but her tiny features were serious as if truly assessing her mother for truth or something else. Hannah pursed her lips for a long second and her young brown eyes caught her mother's and held her gaze for a long moment, "But yous sorry?" Hannah asked and placed her pudgy hand over her mother's breast, "Yous heart is sorry?"

Olivia covered her daughter's hand with her own and nodded as tears built in her eyes for the millionth time that day, "My heart is very, very sorry, Hannah-girl."

"Like mine when Kermit go bye-bye in the potty?"

Olivia bit her bottom lip and her voice was nothing more than a rasp, "Yeah, baby. I'm that sorry, I hit your brother."

"You learn yous lesson?" Hannah asked in curiosity.

Olivia's tears spilled out, her children really did listen to what she and Elliot had to say to them and this time, Hannah was giving it right back to her, "I did, baby. I learned it very well."

Hannah nodded and rested her head back on her mother's shoulder, "Kay," she whispered and it surprised Olivia that Hannah's forgiveness had come so easily. That all the little one wanted to know was whether or not she had learned her lesson in not keeping her hands and feet to herself.

Olivia buried her nose into her daughter's hair, took in the scent of comfort and forgiveness and gently rocked her in her arms. No one ever warned Olivia that being a mother would be like this, no one ever told her that her children would be so in love with her that forgiveness would practically be second nature. No one ever told Olivia that being a mother would be this scary, amazing or humbling.

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"Paul!" Casey yelled as she tossed her keys and bag onto the kitchen counter, "Paul, baby? You here?"

"Here," he told her and stood with Addison in his arms, his index finger at his own nose to signal his wife to lower her voice.

"Sorry," she smiled and closed the gap between her and her family, "how was he?"

"Good, I picked him up about an hour ago, he's exhausted."

She rested her hand on her son's back and rubbed softly, "He's getting so big."

"Gonna take after me," Paul beamed.

Casey smiled and leaned into Paul, let him wrap his free arm around her, "Heard from the Stablers?"

"Just a text from Elliot. Cryptic really, but he knew where the kids were. That's all I was concerned with."

"Nothing from Alex?"

"No. Sorry, Casey."

She exhaled, "Mac cross referenced all the flights from JFK with child passengers, came up with about thirty… want to help me sort?"

"Sure, but… Robert's here."

She pulled back, looked at her husband in confusion, "What?"

"He flipped, Casey. Just completely lost it. Destroyed the house. I didn't want him to be left alone…. So he's here, asleep."

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"I found my parolee," Elliot smiled softly from the frame of Olivia's office door.

Hannah saw her father and knew she was busted, she turned her face into her mother's neck and giggled, "Uh oh, mommy."

Olivia grinned against her daughter and tickled her sides gently, "Did you escape from Daddy?"

"Yes," Elliot chuckled and made his way to his two favorite girls and leaned against the desk, not quite sure of his wife's current state of mind. "She sent me chasing after a ball and split the second I turned around."

"Hannah Elizabeth," Olivia pulled her back gently to look at her, "did you trick daddy?"

Hannah smiled, "I thinkded so."

"You think so?" Olivia smiled and shook her head, "It's yes or no."

Hannah grumbled in her mother's arms, "Yeah, I trickded my daddy."

Elliot covered his mouth, tried not to laugh, "I think," Elliot gathered his composure, "someone is due for a time out-"

"Ah! Man!" Hannah whined and wiggled out of her mother's lap and promptly made her way to the small chair, turning it around to face her mother before she flopped down and covered her chest with her arms, "I no get a kitty. Just time out. Stupid!" she huffed and stuck her bottom lip out.

Her parents, despite wanting to laugh hysterically at her antics simply ignored her behavior. Olivia reached to the desks ledge to pull her up to start working once more, but Elliot interrupted her by taking her hand in his and lacing his fingers with his, "How are you?"

She exhaled, thumbed her brow, "I need to work. I'm swamped," she said motioning to the pile on her desk.

"We could hire someone, Liv, you don't have to keep tabs on both of the gyms… What's gonna happen when we finally open the third one?"

She exhaled, "Elliot… I just need to work, right now. Okay?" she told him and didn't wait for a response. Instead, she brought her keyboard closer to her. He didn't want this to happen. He didn't want her to crawl into herself.

"Get up," Elliot told her.

"What?" she furrowed her brows and motioned to the computer ,"Elliot-"

"Get up, you've got two boys in the locker room that want to talk with you. They haven't seen you."

"Elliot!" she hissed, "I'm busy!"

"No," he shook his head, "no you're not busy. You're being a chicken because you know that Sam and Isaac might not forgive you as easily as the monsters did."

"Screw you!"

"Mommy?" Hannah chirped in and looked on in curiosity between her parents. "Be nice Mommyy. Remembah yous words."

Olivia chewed on her bottom lip, "I need to work."

Elliot hooked his hand under her arm, "Get out of the chair."

"What the-" she snapped as he pulled her from the chair and walked her almost roughly to the door of her office, "Elliot, what is yo-"

He sternly pushed her out of her own office and pointed at her, "You've got two boys, Olivia. Two of them. You're not going anywhere else until you fix things with them."

"Ell-" she was cut off when the door was closed on her face and the sound of the lock resonated through her brain.

She had two little boys in the locker room.

And they werent' gonna be so easy.

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"Sammy?"

"Bro?"

"I want to go swimming again."

"Dude, you just got changed!" Sam groaned.

"I know, but mommy got me really cool shorts, and I want to play in them. Come on brother."

"I'm so not getting changed again." Sam said.

"Ah, come on brother! Pweeeeeze!"

Sam exhaled, "I'll make you a deal."

"For realy?"

"Yeah, I'll take you swimming but you have to promise me that you'll talk to mom when she comes to work, okay?"

Isaac exhaled, "Only if you promise that she loves us."

Sam smiled, nodded, "I promise she loves us," he said, "I pinky promise," he assured him and stuck his pinky out to his brother who simply hooked his pinky with his brothers and made a deal.

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Olivia watched silently as Sam picked Isaac up and tossed him into the water only to have Isaac swim back and ask that Sam do it again and again. They laughed with one another their grins bright and carefree and she didn't want them to know that she was there, she didn't want them to stop laughing and playing with each other, despite the fact that they were both breaking the rules of letting Isaac play in the pool. She had an idea and within several minutes she had changed out of her clothes and into a basic black one-piece she swam laps in.

"Want to do a flip?" Sam asked his little brother who had just surfaced from being dunked by his older brother for what might have been the fiftieth time.

"Kay, how?" Isaac asked asked and dog paddled back to his brother unbeknownst to them that their mother was getting closer and closer to their side of the pool.

"I'll put my hand like this, see?" Sam asked and laced his fingers together just under the surface of the water.

"Yeah."

"Kay, then you put your foot in it and I'll raise up and you flip backwards, okay?"

Isaac grinned, "Yeah, kay," he nodded and wiped his hand over his face, drops of water held lazily to his long lashes. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and placed his foot into Sam's hand and then looked up to see his mother only feet away, "Uh oh."

Sam furrowed his brow, "What's uh oh? Did you pee in the pool?"

"No," Isaac exhaled, "Mommy is here. I'm not 'posed to be in the pool."

Sam groaned, "Ah man."

Olivia lowered herself to the lip of the pool and let her legs relax in the water, "It's okay… how about that flip?"

Both boys responded in unison, "Really?"

Olivia smiled sadly, "Yeah… I won't tell daddy if you wont."

Isaac giggled and laughed while Sam remained silent and simply cupped his hands under the water and waited for Isaac's foot to step in. When it did and Isaac's hands were secure on his shoulders he launched his little brother through the air and watched him sloppily ball his body and land in the pool less than gracefully.

He laughed when he surfaced again, he laughed and he coughed and laughed some more, "Cool!" he giggled and held to the side of the pool.

"That was very cool," Olivia said softly.

Isaac turned and looked at his mother and he wanted to climb into her lap and hug her and tell her he missed her and that he didn't like being away from her and that he's missed painting the sky with her and he misses her smile and her hugs.

"Hey guys," Olivia swallowed and assessed her sons.

Isaac turned to his brother, "Sammy?"

"You promised me," Sam said softly and walked through the water to the last lane of the pool.

"Sammy?" Isaac called again, sad to see his brother begin to swim laps again.

"Isaac?" Olivia reached out and combed his blond hair back, "you okay, honey?"

Isaac looked back for his brother, saw that he was already in the middle of a flip at the opposite end of the pool, "Mommie?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Where were you?" he asked softly, "I missed you."

She patted the cement next to her, "Want to sit here with me?"

He grinned because really, no matter how confused he was about his mothers actions or how many mommies he could have she was still what made his world go around. He huffed and groaned and tried to climb out of the pool, she helped him along as Sam flipped and launched off the side of the pool again. Wanting nothing to do with her.

"You look very upset," Olivia prodded gently and nudged him with her elbow. "You upset handsome? Are you upset with me?"

Isaac exhaled, "My heart is sad 'cause you said you would never never never hit us but… Nanah and Sam said you hit Solo… that true mom? Did you hit my brother?"

Olivia exhaled, thumbed her brow and felt her skin chill, "Yes honey. I did. I can't lie to you or tell you I had a good reason to do it because I didn't. I'm sorry, baby."

"But-but-we're posed to keep our hands and feet to ourselves. That's what you tell us. And you said you'd never spank us. But you did. You spanked Solo…" he looked up at his mother and his chin quivered as his blue eyes watered, "You lied to me mommy? You said to always tell the truth-"

"Hey," Olivia said softly and hooked her finger under her son's chin, turning him to face her, "I didn't lie to you baby. We should always keep our hands and feet to ourselves, but… honey, I made a mistake. A big one. I'm sorry."

"Solo, okay?" Isaac asked softly and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, "He smiles still?"

Olivia grinned, "Yeah, honey. He's okay and he's smiling. I promise."

Isaac crossed his legs and supported his chin on his hands, "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you hit?"

Her lips went tight in an effort to not cry, "I-I do you know how frustrated you get with your math?"

He groaned at the thought, "Yeah. Don't like it so much."

"Do you remember last week when you tore up your homework and slammed your fists on the table?"

"Yeah, got a time out."

She smiled gently, "Yeah… but do you remember that feeling of not knowing what to do or how to do it, do you remember feeling like you couldn't do it-"

"Like I was stupid. I got really angry."

"Yeah, well… I sort of got that way and instead of hitting the table, I made a terrible terrible mistake and hit your brother."

"Terrible? What's that mean?"

"Means very bad. Horrible. Something that if I could take back I would in a second."

"Oh," Isaac nodded , "Mommy? Am I in trouble for getting in the pool?"

Olivia exhaled, "I think… I think today is a freebie. I've made a terrible decision and Solomon forgave me… do you think, do you think you could look in that big ole' heart of yours and forgive me, too?"

Isaac giggled and stretched his feet to dangle in the pool, "Sammy says I got a big heart but sometimes I'm a brat."

Olivia wrapped her arm around Isaac's shoulder and kissed his head, "You've got a great big heart… think it can forgive and love your mom still?"

"Mommy? Brother, I asked him, and he said little boys could have more than one mommie."

Her jaw fell open in shock. Why would Sam tell him that, knowing full well what they'd been through with Isaac? Was he that angry with her that he would willingly do this to her and his brother. "R-Realy? He said that?"

"Yeah," Isaac nodded, "He said that little boys can have all the mommies in the world but the only one that matters was the one the little boy loved back. Sammy said that to me and he asked me how many mommies I thought I had."

Olivia's brows furrowed and she didn't know if she would be able to handle this confession. "And… what did you say to him?"

"I told him that in my dreams, I hear a mommies voice but it's not yours."

Her throat went dry, "Oh."

"So, maybe I got two mommies, one for my dreams and one for real…. And you're the only one that I love."

A sob escaped her as she smiled and wrapped him tightly in her arms, "You love me?"

He giggled, "Yeah" and tightened her hands around him, "I love you as far as the east is from the west."

"And how far is that?" she sniffled.

"To infinity and beyond!" he sang out loud, his finger pointing to the sky.

She ran her hand over his small bicep briskly and exhaled, "Thank you, honey."

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's daddy?"

"In the office. Did you want to see him?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he said and stood carefully before walking away and suddenly stopping. He turned around and hurriedly ran his wet body back to his mother and grabbed her face in his hands promptly placing a big, wet kiss on her forehead and smiling, "Love you, mommy."

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Olivia watched as Sam continued to swim lap after lap after lap and never once stop to acknowledge her existence so she did the only thing she could do, she lowered herself into the pool and waited as he made his way to the end of the pool.

He swam right into her, sputtered as he surfaced and frantically felt for the obstacle to feel just who it was the upset his rhythm.

"Hey," Olivia said softly, "didn't mean to scare you."

Sam ran his hand over his wet hair and shrugged, "S'okay," he whispered less than convincing and bowed his head not sure what to do. He was angry at her but didn't know if he necessarily had the right to be, he wasn't the one that was hit. But his brother was and his brothers and sisters are his heart just as much as his mother and father are. Which makes this all the more confusing.

"Your stroke is looking stronger," she offered.

"My flips are sloppy."

Gently she touched his chin with her index and raised his face to her, "But your stoke is stronger. That's good."

He exhaled, slowly pulled his chin away and his eyes watered. She hit. She hit just like the Wilson's hit. She'd hit. He tried to hold his breath to keep the shuddered breaths away, but eventually he had to take a breath. He exhaled, his shoulders rose and fell and he slammed his eyes shut, feeling the warmth of his tears slide down his cheek.

"Sam-" she tried to talk but was immediately cut off when he fell into her arms, hid his face into her neck and sobbed.

"I'm so mad at you, mom," he cried, "I'm so mad and I don't want to be."

She wrapped him up into her arms and held him as tight as she could, "I know you are, baby. You have the right to be."

He wiped his tears on her skin, hooked his hands over her shoulders and sobbed, "He was cryin' mom. He ran into our room and he was cryin' and he told us," he hiccupped, "he said you hit him. Mom, you hit him."

She sniffled, held him tighter, "I did, honey, I'm sor-"

He pulled away from her, abruptly, "You're not supposed to hit!" he screeched. Slapping at the water in anger, "You're not!"

"Samuel-"

"He's mad at me Mom, Isaac is so mad at me because I told him you wouldn't hit and he caught me in a lie," he coughed and tried to keep his tears from falling.

"Sa-"

"It's not fair!" he shouted, "I wanted him to love you and I wanted him to know that you're amazing and so I lied to him and he… he wouldn't even jump to me in the pool."

Olivia exhaled, ran her hand through her short hair, "Sam, I'm sorry, but I never asked you to lie for me. Isaac… I talked to him… I think he understands. I'm not perfect, Samuel."

In a moment he turned to face his mother and he was full of anger and confusion. He swiped furiously at the water, inadvertently splashing his mother, "Yes you are!" he yelled, "You are! You have to be!" he cried laboriously and bowed his head into his palms to cry, "you have to be," he muttered and tried to wipe at his face.

Slowly she closed the gap between them as the water sloshed about their bodies. Gently she lowered his hands from his face, "Honey," she shook her head softly, "I'm not perfect. I can't be. It's impossible."

He was crying as if he were eight again, his voice high and labored as his shoulders heaved, "Yes you are. You're perfect," he sobbed shaking his head. She cupped the back of his head and gently brought him back into her embrace. "You are perfect, mom. Aren't' you?"

She kissed his cheek, "No. No baby, I'm nowhere near it. I did a bad thing Sam. I did."

He sobbed harder and she wondered momentarily if this was what she must have looked like in Vivian's office as Elliot held her. "I'm not perfect baby and I'm sorry I got you in a bind with Isaac."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her and cried, "I want to be mad at you but I don't like being mad at you and its not fair 'cause I got a right to be right now."

"You do," she whispered and raised her hand from the water to rub his back. The water trickled from her hand down her son's back and he simply buried himself deeper into his mother's embrace.

"And it's not fair 'cause you know I'm gonna forgive you," he coughed and wiped at his eyes again.

She took in a deep breath, "Actually," she said softly and pulled him back to look at him, her hand caressing his face, "I didn't know if you would. Not for something like this and I'm really afraid that I'll loose your trust."

He went back to her, buried his face back into her body and he was safe again, in his mother's embrace, "I don't know what to do," he cried, "I love you."

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"Say we do find Alex," Paul said popping a Skittle, "then what?"

Casey looked up from her sheet of paper that she'd meticulously been going through, "Then Liv and I will fly out and bring her back," she sad matter of fact.

"Right," Paul grinned and popped another Skittle.

"What's that mean?" Casey furrowed her brow and motioned to his candy carrying hand to share.

He happily filled her palm and chuckled, "You think it'll be that easy? To just fly to wherever she is and bring her back? You don't think she's gonna fight you every step of the way?"

Casey chewed slowly on the handful of Skittles and then stated, "If she fights… we'll club her. Stuff her in a suitcase and slap a fragile sticker on it."

Paul took in breath, lodged a skittle in his throat and pounded his chest with the side of his fists, coughing and laughing at the same time until he successfully passed the small candy, "Alex will kill you."

"That's why I'm bringing Olivia."

He chuckled again, stood to his feet and leaned to kiss his wife on the temple, "You two are gonna die so young."

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"You're a master swaddeler," Elliot said softly from the bedroom door as Olivia swaddeled Abel and gently lifted him into her arms.

"H-he ate and… he'd wet a little so-"

He grinned, "You don't have to justify holding him, you know?"

She looked down at Abel, gently traced his cheek with her finger, "It… it feels like I have to."

He closed the space between them and gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders a tender kiss on her temple, "I know… I know today was rough, Liv. I know it was, but I'm proud of you for trying to make it right with each of the kids, I am. I'm proud of you."

She leaned her head to rest on his shoulder, "I don't know if things with Sam are right, yet… he just cried… cried and cried and I hate that I did that to him."

"Sam has had a lot on is mind lately… I think this was just the last straw, I'm sure he'll come around. He and the kids are watching a movie right now, he wanted to listen to Charlotte's Web and Isaac promised to explain things to him."

She grinned softly and was slightly startled when she felt the moist slobber of the tiny boy in her arms, "He likes to suck my finger," she chuckled and her brows lifted in surprise at the little boy who was smiling up at her, his gums rubbing over her finger and pure delight shinning in his eyes.

"He likes you, Liv," Elliot smiled and kissed her cheek tenderly.

Abel giggled.

Because of something she was doing.

She didn't know what it was that made the youngster smile up at her, didn't know what it was that made him giggle but what she did know was that her heart and mind did what was only natural when a mother holds their child.

Gently, and with the utmost care, she lowered her lips to his forehead, let her lips rest against his soft skin and whispered, "Hi little boy… I really like your smile."


	24. The Blame Game

Silver Lining

Silver Lining

The Blame Game

A/N: No excuses for the latency.

Casey exhaled, the exhaustion of searching through flight manifests, calling when she thought she'd found the right flight and the disappointment that filled her once her theory was debunked; caught up to her. The night was passing slowly, her dinner, prepared by her husband sitting cold and untouched to her right. Cell phone and paperwork consuming the immediate space in front of her. Addison already placed in his bed with a kiss from each of his parents, although, she'd been so consumed with her mission, she hadn't savored it. Hadn't even remembered what his cheek felt like when she pressed her lips against it.

Casey hooked her hand behind her neck, rolled her head to try and work the crick out as she stood. The house was quiet, Paul asleep in the master bedroom and Robert asleep in their guest bedroom. The clock spoke of midnight and although she was tired, she contemplated one thought as clear as day.

When she found Alex, she was gonna kill her.

Casey smirked as she quietly padded down the hallway to Addison's room. Who was she kidding? In a fight Alex would probably rip her to shreds. Which was why she needed Olivia, who apparently has decided to turn off her cell-phone and demonstrate her ability to perform the world's greatest disappearing act.

But all of those worries, all of those burdens and all of the exhaustion took a backseat to her son the moment she illuminated his room with the soft incandescent light fixture next to his small bed.

He'd grown so much, so fast and each day brought her a brighter smile than the last. Gently, she lowered herself to his bed, ran her hand through his short cut hair and tenderly rested her lips at his temple. He smelled of his father; sweet and bold and everything that reminds her that she can never go back to a hospital again. Never risk loosing either of them.

She eats breakfast with them both, each morning, without fail. Paul typically places her pill to stave off depression on her napkin and on the days when she doesn't want to take it, on the days when she simply wants to crawl into bed and forget about everyone and everything, she sees her son sitting by his father, his meal usually everywhere as Paul laughs and helps him better control his fork.

When she watches her two favorite guys laughing and having fun with one another, she casually rests her fingertips on the small pill before lifting it to her mouth and washing it down with whatever beverage Paul has placed on the table for that morning. Within a moment, she'll know that taking the pill was the right thing to do.

Addison took a deep breath as he slept, content with the presence of his mother so near, "I love you, Addy," Casey whispered before kissing him once more and tucking him tightly into his comforter.

"When you were gone he never slept well," Paul whispered from the door way.

Casey startled, then smiled before shutting off the lamp and walking delicately to her husband, "Hi. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," he assured her and linked his hand with hers, leading her back to the living room, "I had to pee."

She chuckled and turned to make her way into the living room but was promptly pulled back to her husband who smiled broadly, "Come on, Case… watch cartoon network with me."

She laughed, rolled her eyes, "It's past mid-night…. Come on. I'm running out of time, I need to find her."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "I want to have sex with you.'

She grinned, bit her bottom lip, "You had sex with me this morning."

"So? You're point is what, exactly?" he whispered and pulled her gently to the couch, covering his body as he lay back.

She kissed him through a smile, "I have to keep looking, Paul. She'd do it for us, you know? If we were…" she let her voice die and puffed out a breath, "Sorry. I didn't need to rehash that did I?"

He raised his head, kissed her lips and grinned, "It's okay. It's what makes us," he shrugged, "us."

Casey grinned, ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his lips once more, "I love you, Paul."

"I have that effect on you. You know, that dopey smile?" he teased and rested his hands on her hips, "Want me to help you look?"

Casey's smile fell, her breath escaping through her nose, "I'm scared I'll find her."

Paul furrowed his brows, "What?"

Casey rested her head on his chest, held tight to his shoulders, "I'm scared I'll find her. Find Alex."

He held the back of her head, buried his nose I her hair, "Scared? I-I thought that's what you wanted, was to find her and make Robert and her work it out."

"I do," she answered genuinely.

"I don't understand."

She exhaled over the cotton of his night shirt, "I'll have to fly to wherever she is."

"And since when are you scared of planes?" he chuckled softly and kissed her tenderly on the crown of her head. "Or maybe, it's just that you can't handle going a few days with out me," he teased and raised his hips to rub against her.

"I'm not scared of planes… and don't get carried away with that thing, Robert is here, remember?"

He groaned and rubbed her back firmly, "What's wrong? Why are you scared to find Alex?"

"It's stupid."

"What is?"

"The reason."

"Tell me."

She rested her chin on his chest, raised her neck just slightly and kissed him again, "What if I forget a pill?"

His smile was gentle as he pushed her hair behind her ear, "You haven't so far."

"What if I do? What if I get so busy and so out of it that I forget? I don't want to go back. I don't."

Paul caressed her cheek and searched her eyes. She was scared. Scared of going back to a place of sterility where he and their son weren't there. She was scared to go back. "One pill isn't gonna make you go back, Case."

"I know… but… I don't like being on them anyway… what if… what if, while I'm gone, I like _not_ being on them?"

He smiled up at her, "That's why you gotta take Olivia. She'll kick your ass."

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The entire day had been a whirl-wind of emotion and struggle and fight and humility. Olivia had humbled herself to each of her children, asked for their forgiveness and was floored when her bold request was granted from all of her children.

Except for Sam.

Sam had never actually said the words, _I forgive you_, instead he'd fallen into her arms and sobbed that he didn't know what to do. He loved her. It was simple and complex, his mind. He'd never said he forgave her, just that he loved her.

Which has kept her awake starring at the ceiling with Elliot's arm draped possessively across her waist. He'd gone to bed in an undershirt and boxers as if not even wanting to suggest sex to her. She on the other hand, being the walking contradiction that she was, waited until the lights were out to slip her naked form into bed with him and ask if he'd sleep naked next to her.

He was naked in seconds but didn't dare turn the lights on knowing instinctively that she'd protest the action. He wanted to make love to her the moment their bodies touched and her bottom snuggled tight against him.

But he wasn't a stupid man.

He knew that her request had nothing to do with sex but everything to do with wanting to be close to him _apart_ from sex. And so he had held her tight against his body demanding that his hand not move to caress her perfect breasts. Instead, he'd tangled his feet with hers, kissed the back of her hair and whispered to her that she was beautiful, that he adored her.

He'd kissed her bare shoulder and continued to whisper to her as she stared at the red numbers of the alarm clock. He'd reminded her of things she'd forgotten, reminded her of the simple things, their first dance when she'd buried her face against his neck. Their first kiss when she'd kept her eyes wide open. He reminded her of so many firsts until finally, at exactly eleven-forty-eight the sound of his whisper faded and slowly gave way to the sound of his steady breaths.

It was now one-fourteen in the morning and her body registered cold but she made no motion to move his hand from her waist to get closer to him. She didn't want him to move his hand. She didn't want to move it. She'd deal with the cold.

But, in the almost ninety minutes since he's fallen asleep next to her, she's been restless, hoping that each time she moved, he'd wake up and whisper even more to her. Didn't he know how much his voice calms her? Soothes her? Didn't he know?

Probably not considering she's a basket case and hasn't told him much of anything. Hasn't told him that he has all the power to sooth her, but some pain takes a little longer to sooth. As she lay there, she wondered momentarily if he'd hold her for the rest of their lives just in an attempt to release her from the ache that Oliver brought her.

She raised his hand just enough to turn to him. He was gorgeous in the moonlight that blanketed them. She rested her hand on his bearded cheek, kissed his forehead, his nose and finally his lips. "I love you," she confessed in the privacy of their room. "You have no idea how much I love you," she said softly. "And that's not your fault. Not at all."

Her eyes swelled with tears that fell softly, soaking into their sheets, "I know I'm falling apart," she whispered as he slept, "but I just… I think I finally need to break… I've-I've been cracking a lot over the years and I'm scared that if I break… I'll shatter."

"I'll put you back together," he rasped and his eyes opened slowly, focused solely on her. He tightened his hold on her, kissed her lips, "I'll put you back together, Olivia, but you've got to take the first step."

"I don't need group therapy," she said softly.

And just as softly he replied, "Yes, you do."

She furrowed her brows and sniffled. The silence between them, patient. "You really believe that, don't you?" she asked, her eyes never once seeking his.

"I do," he said and his hand finally moved to touch her cheek. "I think Vivian was right today… I think you're afraid to go because you won't know how to react to it, the healing… getting rid of the anger."

"I'm not angry."

"You are."

She took a deep breath, let her hand find its way between them, her thumb grazing over his nipple. He sucked in a breath, "Liv," he warned, "don't."

She avoided his face, pushed herself up just enough to duck her head, flick her tongue over his nipple, "Don't what? Don't stop?" she asked as she played seductress and hoped with all that she had that he didn't understand that she was doing this, tempting him, just to throw him off. She was doing it to prove to him that she could still be sexual without having to go to counseling or anything else he or Vivian thought she needed.

He swallowed a groan, she'd shifted enough that her breasts were against his chest and her hand was slowly making its way down his body, "Liv-"

She grasped him firmly and stroked him perfectly. "You don't want me to stop, Elliot," she whispered hot and stroked him again, watched as he buried the heel of his hand against his eye.

"Liv. Stop?" he pleaded with her, "Please? Please, don't do this."

She was already pulling the comforter away from their bodies and kneeling between his legs, "Don't do what?" she asked, held him firmly in her hand and flicked her tongue over the head of his penis.

"Olivia!" he grabbed her hand, pulled her up to him and held her firmly only inches from his face, "Don't," he growled, not out of anger so much as the agony of trying to withstand her.

She yanked her wrist out of his hand and shoved his chest with her other hand before swinging her legs around and trying to leave the bed.

"No," he'd said and immediately pulled her back, forced her to sit between his legs and for a split second he thought it funny, both of them naked, her sitting between his legs, his arms around her in an effort to keep her where he needed her. It was dangerous having her like this and fighting to keep his control over his body.

He was preparing for a fight, a struggle to keep her there in his embrace and instead she'd tightened his arms around her waist, "Don't let me go," she begged him. "Don't let me go."

"You're not alone, Liv. You're not. I'm here."

"Don't let me go," she repeated again and reached back, hooked his neck with her hand, "Please, don't let me go, Elliot."

He held her there for long moments, couldn't tell if she was breathing or crying, the only thing that registered was fear, confusion and insecurities. "Liv," he whispered, kissed the back of her neck, "Liv, you don't need to prove anything to me. You didn't… I didn't want you to do that and be upset later. I love you, Olivia. I want-"

"Elliot," she turned her head just slightly, just enough to see a sliver of him, "Maybe… maybe I should call tomo-"

He groaned at the sound of the doorbell, "It's one in the morning."

"I'll get it," Olivia exhaled and stood, reaching for her robe that was draped over the chair in the corner of their room.

Elliot heard another ring of the doorbell followed by a knock at the door. He stood just as Olivia had grabbed her robe, "No," Elliot whispered behind her and gently took her hand, "Slip back in bed, whoever it is, I'll send them away."

Another knock, much louder, resonated through the house, "Their gonna wake the kids up," she said softly, "I can go while you-"

He snaked his hands around her waist, kissed her tenderly on the cheek, "Slip back in bed. I want to finish talking with you."

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The knocking grew more persistent, much harder by the second. "Alright, alright, already," Elliot muttered as he tightened the belt to his robe.

The knock turned into a pound, stopped only when Elliot opened the door in a flurry of exhaustion and irritation. "Wha-" he furrowed his brows at the unexpected guest and immediately stepped out onto the porch, closing the door softly behind him, "Casey?" he hissed, "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I found Alex."

"What?"

"Alex," Casey nodded, "I found her. She's in Texas."

Elliot scrubbed his hands over his face, "Casey… I'm glad you found her. I am. But… couldn't you have called?"

"Elliot," Casey tilted her head, "come on. This is important."

He exhaled, crossed his arms over his chest and huddled to keep warm, "She okay?"

"Don't know."

"Casey!" Elliot growled, "What do you mean you don't know? You just said you found her!"

"Texas is a big state, Elliot."

He ran his hand through his hair, turned in a tight circle before stopping to look at Casey again, "You want Olivia?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, can I talk to her?"

Elliot swallowed, looked over Casey's shoulder and exhaled before looking back at her, "No."

Her brows lifted to her hairline, her jaw went slack, "No?"

He shook his head, "No," he said softly, "No."

"She'd want to know that we found Alex."

Elliot licked his lips, "I'll tell her. She's… she's… not strong enough right now, Casey."

Casey took a step forward, immediately dropped her voice, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Nothing happened," Elliot said and pinched the bridge of his nose, "She just… she needs to be home right now. I need to be with her, Casey."

"She having a hard time with Abel?" she asked softly.

Elliot shook his head, "I-I-she needs to be home, Casey. I'm sorry."

"She should be able to decide, Elliot."

Irritated with her persistence, he stepped closer to her, "If you ask her to go with you, you know she will, Casey. You know she'll put everyone else first and she'll let her self die. She's not going. End of conversation," he told her and turned around to go back into his home.

It was the sound of a cell-phone flipping open, numbers being pushed, a call being placed that made him stop. He spun around to see Casey holding the phone to her ear, the sound of the house phone ringing just beyond the front door. "Casey!" he hissed and snatched the phone from her hand, slamming it shut immediately, "Damnit! My marriage needs my wife more than Alex's does!"

She was confused, "W-what? What do you mean, your marriage?"

He tried a cleansing breath, "Casey, listen to me closely. We love you, we love Alex and Robert but right now my only concern is my own family," his voice broke and he hoped the darkness covered the tears that were forming in his eyes, "She's-we're drowning, Case, please?" he pleaded, "She won't be able to take it and… I won't be able to take her falling apart. I need her and she needs me."

"Can I talk to her? I won't mention Alex."

He sniffled, shook his head, "No," he rasped and turned from her, walked back into his home, back to his wife.

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She'd already gone back to sleep, and he was somewhat disappointed about that for he felt that she was just on the verge of telling him she wanted to go to the therapy sessions Vivian spoke of. She had told them she wanted to call someone tomorrow and in his heart he can only pray that it was the counseling she wanted. That she would do that, for her.

For them.

But, on the other hand, he was glad that she'd finally fallen back asleep, because, while she thought he was asleep, he wasn't. He was next to her, trying in vein to absorb her worry and shame and confusion as they lay with one another. He was trying to absorb that by simply holding her, the whole time knowing he was failing miserably.

Elliot quietly slipped his now cool body between the sheets of their bed, his wife still naked, curled in the fetal position for warmth. Security. He made his way to her body, pulled her close and felt her jump slightly at the cool of his form.

She nestled closely to him, rested her hands over his as they found their place on her naked abdomen. "Everything okay?" she whispered, "Who was it?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. It was Mr. Passtran from down the street… told me our gate was open." he assured her with a tender kiss on her neck. "I'm sorry I woke you."

She chuckled softly, "You're freezing… Mr. Passtran was up at this hour?"

He smirked, "You'll warm me... don't worry about Mr. Passtran, Liv."

"Mmmm," she hummed and allowed her self to drift back into sleep as she tangled her feet with his, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he assured her, pressed his lips against her shoulder, couldn't help himself, "What were you telling me, Liv? Before the doorbell rang? What were you going to say?"

She turned in his embrace, her sleepy eyes focusing on his as she cupped his cheek and kissed his lips softly, "It's not important. Let's go to sleep?"

He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and positioned himself so that she could rest her head on his chest while she slept in his arms.

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Sam could hear his little brother breathing in the bed next to him. Isaac had a soft breathing pattern that was echoed by Zeus laying next to him, best friends cuddled as close as possible to one another. Sam has felt for his brother as he slept so many times that he knows his small arm is draped over Zeus' neck, his pudgy belly pressed tight against the dog's back. Both asleep.

Moses and Sam on the other hand were a different story. When Sam was awake Moses was awake and her heavy jaw was always resting on Sam's chest looking up at eyes that could never look back into hers. However; that never seemed to bother Moses, not at all, she was quite content to hear Sam whisper to her as he gently ran his hand over her bulky skull, down her nose and when she was really lucky, when her master was deep in thought she reaped the benefits of a slow ear massage.

Sam stopped rubbing Moses' ear just long enough to raise his wrist to his ear and press the button for the time. He groaned, "Four in the morning, Mosie," Sam whispered and continued to rub her velvet ear. Moses let out a deep breath and nestled closer to her master, "Think mom would mind if I woke her up?" he said softly and Moses didn't really care who he woke up, so long as her ear massage continued.

"What do you think I should do, Mosie? Hmm?" he asked and exhaled slowly, "I don't know what to do, but I love her, you know? I love my mom like crazy and I don't know why I didn't tell her I forgave her for hitting Solo. I wanted to, but… I don't know why I didn't. What do you think?"

Moses jerked her head closer to Sam, her wet nose hitting his chin before her large tongue traveled the length of his entire face. "Yeah," Sam exhaled, "that's what I was thinkin' too."

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Olivia's eyes snapped open the moment she heard the light knock on the bedroom door. Why was is closed? When she pulled back the comforter and her breast responded immediately to the cold, she realized that Elliot must have closed it just in case one of the kids wanted to come. They'd knock first. Unless it was Solomon.

The knock sounded again, tender and timid, "Mom? Can I come in?"

Olivia smiled softly, "Give me a sec, Sam," she called softly and slipped into a pair of Elliot's flannels and his 'A' shirt. She opened the door to see Sam standing in flannels and socks, "Hey, handsome. You okay?" she said softly.

He furrowed his brows in deep thought, "Um… my wrist hurts."

She arched her brow, ran her hand over her face trying to stave off sleep, "Okay," she yawned, "Were you not able to find your pills?"

He turned his head away from her, his lips tight and his focus split and frantic. He wanted to fall into her, tell her he was sorry and that he forgave her, that he was sorry for being angry but the only thing that came out was, "My wrist hurts."

Olivia nodded softly, not sure what to make of Sam's wake up call. "Okay," she said and closed the door quietly behind her, following her son to the kitchen where she found his medicine exactly where it was, "Honey, did you search for your pills?" she asked and opened the bottle spilling a pill into her palm before passing it to Sam.

"No," he shook his head.

She smirked as he downed the pill with a glass of water, "You want to talk?"

"You and dad ever gonna give me my punishment?" he asked.

"You woke me up at four in the morning to see what your punishment is? I don't buy it… what is it, Sam?" she asked and softly cupped his cheek, "Are you still upset with me? Because it's okay if-"

He lowered her hand, but only so he could step into her and rest his head on her shoulder, feel her arms wrap around his body and hold him tightly to her, "I love you, Mom."

She smiled softly, "I know, honey. I know… but why are you crying?" she asked and gently pulled him away, wiped his wet cheeks with her thumbs, "What is it, Sam? Talk to me? Please?"

He sniffled, covered her hands with his and lowered them to his heart, "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, that I forgave you, mom. I do. I forgive you. I'm sorry. My heart forgives you, too," he cried and went back to her embrace.

She was in a slight stage of shock. She needed to hear that she'd been forgiven by him almost as much as she needed to be forgiven by Solomon himself. She cupped the back of his head, kissed his temple and let her lips linger there even as she spoke, "Thank you," she sniffled, "Thank you, Samuel."

"I love you, mom. I love you so much."

"I know and I love you."

He hiccupped against her and coughed before pulling back, "I lied to you."

She furrowed her brows again and looked at him, assessed him and tried to remember what he would have possibly lied to her about and came up with nothing. "About what?"

"I didn't wake you up 'cause my wrist hurt, I mean, it does hurt me, but… I woke you up 'cause I wanted to tell you that."

She smiled tenderly and caressed his face, "Best wake-up call a girl could have," she assured him and kissed his forehead, "I think your wrist hurts because you got in the pool with your brother… Doc said no swimming for a month."

He smirked but it was clear, there were things still on his mind.

"Want some hot chocolate?" she asked, "I can put some on and you and I can talk about what's really on your mind."

"Cherry?"

She grinned, "Of course."

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"How come dad doesn't really like Cherry? He drinks it 'cause you like it, but he doesn't make the sounds you make when you drink it. He only does that when he gets his cinnamon," Sam said as he and his mother sat on the couch, mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. "I don't like cinnamon. I don't. It's hard on my nose… no, I don't like it at all-"

"You're father," Olivia said softly, cutting off his babbling. "Is a very special man. I should probably give him more cinnamon, huh?"

Sam shrugged "Guess so. If that's what he likes."

"Samuel?" Olivia said softly before taking a sip of her chocolate and swallowing, "What's on your mind, baby?"

He squirmed almost instantly and she could tell he was uncomfortable, "I'm gonna go back to sleep, now," he muttered but made no motion to move from the couch.

"Why do you think your flips are sloppy? I watched you, they look really clean," she assured him and took another sip of the warm liquid.

"Crystal's been teaching me a new stroke, and it's hard to flip at the end… I hit my foot on the edge of the pool," he answered and took a drink of his chocolate.

She was just about to ask what stroke he was working on when he suddenly put everything on the line, "How come your not gay, mom?"

Her brows were as high as they'd probably ever been and she nearly dropped the mug of liquid in her lap before placing it on the coffee table, "Sam, I'm married to your father. I'm happy with him, you know that."

"I know," he agreed, "But how come you're _not_ gay?"

She shook her head, tried to make sense of his questions, "Honey, why are you asking me that?"

He exhaled, bowed his head in thought and after a long moment said, "Mom… were-did-after-" he exhaled again, "Can I… can I talk to you about- I mean, can I ask you questions, about… how… you were hurt?"

Her eyes widened, _NO! No, Sam. No. Not now. I can't take it. Please don't. _"You can ask me anything, baby. You know that."

He paused and waited a long moment. He wasn't entirely sure where to start with this. The things he wanted to ask, he wasn't sure he could and just now, just a few seconds ago there was something in her voice that told him he shouldn't ask the hard questions. He shouldn't ask who did it. Why they did it. Did she cry like he did? "Was it hard for you to want dad?" he asked.

"Hard? Yes and no."

Sam's brows arched, "Mom."

She smirked, "It was hard because we were partners and I really liked your father but there were rules when we were cops. Eventually we decided to be with one another but… it's always been worth it. I love your father, Sam. Very much."

"Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"Weren't you scared?"

"Of what?"

"Of being with dad, like… you know, like kissing him?" he asked softly, bowing his head.

She tipped his head up with a surprisingly shaky finger. If he stuck to vague questions, if he stuck to questions centered on her and Elliot, she could do this. She could. "Don't be shy to ask Sam. It's okay."

He exhaled, turned and faced his mother, "After you were hurt, Mom… wasn't it hard, weren't you scared to-you know- have sex with Dad?"

Olivia nodded slowly to herself, slowly piecing together her son's line of questioning, shouldn't she have been gay because she should have been too scared to be intimate with a man? She smirked to herself, thankful that her other children wouldn't know of her attack to the extreme that her son does, their questions would be easier, almost comical.

Sam's will never be that way.

"We've talked about this, baby. I took things very, very slow with your father and a lot of it was, well it was because of how I was hurt. I was lucky, Sam, to have your father. I don't think most guys would have waited for me to get it together."

"Dad waited?"

"He waited for just about everything, honey because I didn't understand how to give him anything. I didn't understand how to give of myself because after I was hurt… I didn't think anyone would want me."

Sam pondered this. How could his father not want his mother. She was perfect. She was. Even though she swore to him she wasn't she had to be. She had to be perfect, because if she could be perfect then he still believed he had a chance at being good. "He waited to kiss you?" he asked, almost in a whisper of uncertainty.

She grinned, bright and bold and it surprised her that the memory of their first kiss had that power over her. "He did. He waited for small things, like holding my hand and kissing me, and he waited for much more important things like me telling him I loved him and us making love… he waited."

"Is that why you say he's a very special man?"

"Well, that's part of it, yeah, but your dad is just… great in so many ways. He takes care of us, provides for us, and man I got to tell you Sam, he's so in love with you… he loves you very much," she smiled and ran her hand through his hair, "I love you too."

He blushed and smiled before hugging his body and shivering in the cool morning. She simply pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over them both, "Here, cuddle up. Keep me warm," she whispered and leaned back so he could get comfortable, rest his head on her abdomen, the blanket keeping them warm.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"If Crystal waited for me, would that make her a very special girl?"

Olivia let her hand comb gently through his hair, "Honey, you and Crystal are very young, still. What's happening between you two that you have all of these questions?"

Sam paused for several seconds before speaking, "Well," Sam pulled the blanket tighter, "um… do you think I'm gay? Do you think I'm a fag? The kids, even at the new school they tease me and I was listening to this study at the library that said a lot of people who have things happen like me and you end up gay."

Her brows furrowed and she remembered Elliot laying that at her feet, but she'd been so wrapped up in herself that she'd forgotten. "Do you know what gay means?"

"Yeah, it's like when my dad and grandpa hurt me and called me a faggot. I like Crystal Mom, I do. Her face is so beautiful and she's really smart and she gets me in trouble just like you get dad in trouble-"

"Hey!" she laughed and tickled his side gaining a chuckle form her son. He calmed and her hand returned to his hair, "Honey, if you like her, doesn't that sort of prove that you're not gay?"

He exhaled, "I'm scared of her, like not that she can beat me up, but more like… maybe I just want to hold her hand, maybe kiss her cheek but… I'm scared to do anything else, like, I don't want to be inside of her and I'm scared that I'll always want to kiss her and-"

"Hey," Olivia said softly and bent her neck to kiss the crown of his head, "you're going too fast."

"Sorry."

She smirked, "No problem. Samuel, you're young son. It's okay if you're not ready to kiss her. It's okay to be confused… it," she exhaled. "Sam… you and I were hurt in a way that most people will never understand and we'll react to certain things certain ways that they won't be able to understand, but the ones that try, the ones that want to be with you no matter what… those are the keepers Sam."

"Do you still get confused, Mom?"

She took a breath, _Lately that's all I am_. "I do."

"But, Dad tries to understand you? He tries to love you in spite of all of that?"

She smiled warmly, "He does… that's why he's a very special man, Sam."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you ever think you could be gay 'cause you were too scared to want to be with anyone? Like a boy?"

"Sam, sometimes, when you're hurt so badly… you don't want to be with anyone. I didn't know how to trust and I was too scared to love to want anyone… I tried to date people-"

"Boys or girls?"

She smiled at his curiosity, "Boys."

"Kay. Just checkin'," he told her matter of fact, "So, then I can be afraid to be with someone but that doesn't mean that I'm gay… it just means I got to learn how to trust and love a little more?"

"Sam… I've had to learn my whole life to love and trust… I don't think we ever really get it, not when we've been hurt so badly, not unless we have someone really special."

"Like dad?"

She nodded, "Like dad… he's taught me a lot, about love and trust and sometimes I think I get it and then he pushes me just a little further and I learn just a little bit more."

"Do you think Crystal pushes me?"

"I think Crystal really likes you too Sam, but you get to be the one that says what happens and what doesn't and she'll either respect you and stand by you or she wont and she was never worth it in the first place."

"That's rough."

"It is, but its truth and sometimes truth is rough."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"You never thought… you never thought you might like girls? That they might be safer than boys?"

"Sam… do you… is there… a boy you like?"

He furrowed his brow, "No."

"Then…. I don't understand. Why the questions?"

He exhaled against her abdomen and thought about all the things he really needed to ask her. He needed to be able to ask her the hard stuff, not just the random stuff. He needed to ask her things that he knew would make her cry and for some strange reason, tonight, his mother seems so fragile and that's something he's never felt from her before. "I just," he began and paused for a long moment, "If I was a normal boy… If I was a perfect boy, wouldn't I want to be with Crystal? I wouldn't want to wait or be afraid of her. I'd want her if I was normal right?"

"You are normal, Sam. You are. No matter what anyone says about you. You. Are. A normal little boy."

"Then why does my heart hurt so much? The other boys… I don't hear hurt in their voices and they talk about having girlfriends and playing sports… isn't that normal stuff for a boy? I don't have those things, mom. I'm not normal."

"Sam, there were lots of times I didn't feel normal. There were lots of times I looked at the other girls and wondered why everyone liked them so much. I never thought I'd be happy and I never thought I'd get married or have really great kids or a really great husband, but I do," she assured him softly and tenderly continued to stroke his hair, "I never thought about being with a girl because I never thought about being with anyone. I never thought it was possible."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"The boys at school call me a fag."

_Then kick their ass next time. You have my permission._ She tightened her hold on him, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm so sorry."

"They call me fag, just like my dad and grandpa did and I didn't do anything to them, I'm still a nice boy mom, just like when you first saved me, I'm still a nice boy," he sniffled and while he might have been thirteen, he still wiped his face on her shirt and she couldn't care less.

"Want to know something?"

He sniffled again, hiccupped, "What?"

"When I was a cop a lot of the women would gossip about me, they'd say things that hurt my heart so badly I would cry when I got home."

"What did they say?"

"Well, I think they saw me as a cop Sam and that's usually a rough job, right?"

"Right."

"And I dated a few guys but the women there never saw them… what do you think they thought?"

"That you didn't like boys?"

"Yeah, they gossiped about me and the rumor was that I was gay, that I preferred women, even that me and your aunt Alex were an item."

Sam's face contorted, "Gross."

She laughed, "People talk, Sam, they talk because they see us limp but they don't see the tac in our shoe… they don't know why we do certain things, but when you find that special person, Sam…. They'll know your heart."

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Olivia had forgotten what it was like to have an infant in the home again. Well, that was until only moments after she'd crawled back in bed with her husband that young Abel decided he'd very much like to be changed and fed. At five O'clock in the morning. She looked at Elliot to see just what would happen if she continued to let the baby cry. Would he do what he typically does and jerk wide awake, ready and willing to scoop up the young boy in his arms and cuddle him close, care for him? Love him?

Sure that was what he'd normally do but apparently, Vivian's had taken just as much from him as it did from her, if not so much more. He was dead to anything around him, even the grumblings of a baby boy only feet away in a yellow and blue stripped onsie. She smiled in regret that she has exhausted him so much that he simply could not respond to excess stimulus.

She stood, stumbled in the dark to the crib and peered down at Abel, "Hey, you… it's pretty early… do you think you'd be kind enough to give me another hour?" she asked and he stilled almost immediately at the sound of her voice. She grinned. "You like my voice?" she whispered and rubbed her hand over his small belly before gently picking him up into her arms and discovering one amazing thing.

Elliot wasn't the only one capable of cuddling him close. For the first time since she'd made the decision to bring Abel into their home, she cradled him in her arms so naturally and so comfortably she thought, momentarily, that it felt she had him from day one. "You've got a killer schedule," she whispered to him and his face contorted, turned bright red as he screeched in her arms.

Quickly, she grabbed his diaper bag and left the room, wanting Elliot to rest. She'd laid him gently on the couch, pampered him expertly and swaddled him before walking with him to the kitchen, he fussed and grumbled and generally let her know that while his toosh was fresh, his belly was empty.

She whispered softly to him and negotiated the kitchen cupboards with one hand, the art of appeasing an infant while preparing his meal, returning to her as if it were second nature, and perhaps it was. Whereas before, perhaps she'd subconsciously refused to care for him for fear it would be so natural. So loving.

She'd managed to fill his bottle with water, get the lid of the formula off and he fussed louder. She adjusted him so rest on her shoulder as she continued to mix the powder with the water and he nestled his face against her neck, cried only momentarily and then took a deep breath and calmed, "You like that spot better, huh?" she chuckled lightly and shook the bottle in her hand before placing it in the microwave and waiting patiently for it to finish warming.

"Wanna know something?" she whispered to Abel as she rubbed his back with the palm of her hand. He simply brought his hand to his mouth and sucked on it, "Good," she smiled against him, "I'm glad you asked…because, I wanted to tell you," she said softly and let her lips graze his small, perfect ear, "that I'm not as afraid of you right now, as I was this morning."

She let the words soak. Not so much over him as she let them soak over her self. Truly, as she held him in the dimly light kitchen, she was less afraid to be alone with him, more willing to see that he didn't know he was born to a father that shattered her, given up by a grandmother who forsook him. No, he didn't know these things at all. What Olivia recognized he knew, was that when he cried, either Elliot or herself tended to his needs, held him delicately, whispered to him. Nurtured him.

Carefully, she sat with him on the couch, adjusted him so that she cradled him in her arms again and she smiled the moment he began to fuss. His chest swelled with air and he let out a wail to which Olivia chuckled and adjusted his bottle, made sure the temperature was right, the air was out and the moment his wide eyes caught sight of it, his legs reflexively kicked and his pink lips became instantly moist with want.

"Crocodile tears," Olivia whispered and gently grazed the nipple over his lips and he instantly latched on, his eyes finding hers and staying fixated on her. "Isaac use to do that, too," she told him softly and held his gaze, wondered what he saw in hers, wondered if his long eye-lashes would stay that way as he grew older, marveled at the structure of his dark brows, his smooth and silky dark hair, his tanned skin.

Abel hummed against the nipple of his bottle, his eyes assessing the woman holding him and his small hand jerked up and landed on her chin without finesse or tenderness but with the sweetness that only a young child still learning how to coordinate his body could bring. He moved his fingers, tugged at her bottom lip as he sucked on the nipple and before she knew what she was doing, she'd playfully taken his prying fingers into her mouth, her teeth protected by her lips.

He'd stopped sucking and pulled his hand away only to return it to her mouth, perhaps to see if he'd get the same reaction. And he did.

At five O'clock in the morning Olivia sat with Abel in her arms enjoying the young boy as he slapped at her face, investigated her lips, her cheeks, and at times her necklace and at the end of his investigation, when he felt he could absorb all that he could for now, he let his eye lids close ever so slowly, his reflexive sucking finally stopped when it wanted to and his perfect hand rested over her hand that held his bottle.

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"Daddy," Isaac whispered from the foot of his parents' bed as he rested his small forearms on the mattress and smiled. "Daddy, its wake time."

Elliot didn't budge; in fact, he'd never even noticed that his wife's side of the bed was empty. Had been for a few hours. Isaac tilted his head to the side, what was with his parents this morning? Usually, they wake up for him almost immediately and today his mother was on the couch holding his tiny baby brother both asleep and she didn't budge, either.

Well, he'd just have to get louder.

"Daddy!" Isaac chirped and still got nothing. This was simply unacceptable to him and so he expertly tugged on the comforter and helped himself onto the bed, crawling to his father in happiness and plopping himself on his dad's broad chest, "Wake time!" he grinned down at his dad who jumped, startled into reality and grabbed his young son by his hips.

"Isaac!" Elliot groaned and then laughed groggily, "You weigh a ton!"

"Daddy, I put the doggies outside all by myself," he grinned down, his perfect elementary teeth, white and bold.

"Oh yeah?" Elliot smiled sleepily and rubbed his sons back with gentle hands, "Sam didn't help you?"

"He's snoorin'!" Isaac giggled, "It was so loud, Daddy, that I wanted to sleep with you and mom, but mommy's snorin' too!"

Elliot chuckled softly and rubbed his sons small belly. As the grogginess cleared he suddenly realized something and his head snapped to Olivia's side of the bed and he furrowed his brow. His plan had been to simply hold her as she slept and make sure she got through the rest of the night, however; it would appear, to his regret, that he'd fallen asleep.

"Mommy and Abie are snoozin' and I wanted to be with Mommy but Abie is hoggin' her!" Isaac said and promptly produced a fake pout.

"Abie is hoggin our lady?" Elliot asked softly, still too tired to figure out exactly what was going on. He pulled his body up, leaned himself against the headboard and grinned when Isaac promptly threw himself against his father's chest and snuggled close.

"Yeah," Isaac exhaled and nestled close to his father. Elliot lazily kissed the crown of his head and turned to rest his cheek there. He looked at the crib and it dawned on Elliot in the early morning hours that Olivia had gotten up to tend to Abel.

This simple fact, this knowledge warmed his heart and he squeezed Isaac a bit tighter as he held him, "Abel is sleeping with your mother?" Elliot whispered, not so much asking. No, he wasn't asking at all. He was marveling.

"Mmm hmm," Isaac muttered and if it were possible he pushed himself even closer to his father and exhaled letting his body drift off in the safety of his father for just a few more minutes.

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Elliot grinned down at his wife who held their smallest son over her chest, both sleeping content with the other. Olivia's slender hand covering his pampered body, her other hand splayed perfectly over his tiny back. Olivia looked happy and exhausted all at once but it was his son's tiny fist that stole his full attention. The tiny tanned fist that wrapped itself tightly around his mother's pendent. The pendent he'd given her years ago on a balcony outside her apartment, the same pendent that once she knew it's meaning she never once took it off.

And now Abel held that same meaning securely in his grasp as he slept. Elliot bent low, his back aching but not enough to keep him from gently stroking his son's hair and kissing his wife's cheek, "Liv," he whispered softly, "Liv, honey, wake up. Breakfast is ready."

Her hands tightened tenderly over her son and she moaned softly before turning her head and exhaling steadily, never once waking up. "Liv," Elliot chuckled lightly and kissed her cheek softly again before dragging his lips to her ear, "Liv… wake up, baby, your omlet is going to get cold.

The corner of her mouth lifted just slightly and she took in a deep breath as she turned her face to him, her smile growing but her eyes never opening, "Omlet?" she whispered softly.

"Yeah," Elliot said and tenderly kissed her cheek, "extra cheese, the way you like it."

Slowly she opened her eyes and for a split moment he wished she hadn't because even though her smile said that in this small moment she was happy, her eyes told a different story. Consumed with frustration and confusion and unhappiness.

Elliot furrowed his brow softly and gently cupped her cheek, "I hoped you'd be feeling a little better this morning."

She pressed her cheek into his palm, gently let her hands massage the sleeping boy that lay content over her body as she exhaled, her breath lifting and lowering his silky hair, "I feel better with you next to me. Always."

He covered her hand that rested over Abel's bottom and gently rubbed the ridge of her thumb, "Liv?"

"Hmmm?"

"I want you to be happy apart from me. We're you happy before you met me? Did you feel sexy?"

Her brows furrowed and she couldn't help it again, she was suddenly wide awake, her heart rate had suddenly just spiked another two or three thousand beats per minute and she thought it might explode right there in her chest as she held Abel. Her body contracted and she instantly rose, protecting Abel with her hands. She was shocked and her voice was raspy and scared and her eyes that only seconds ago were dead were suddenly alive and panicked and beyond alarm, "Did you think an omelet would make this easier on me?"

Elliot furrowed his brow, blinked, "What?" he asked and attempted to rest his hand on her thigh.

She roughly cast his hand away and her face was full of disgust and she didn't know what to do with Abel so she held onto him like she never had before in hopes that when her heart finally did explode in her chest he could somehow protect Elliot from seeing her.

"Liv-"

She was getting ready to hyperventilate he was sure and he couldn't wrap his brain around what had triggered this sudden fear within her. She'd looked happy and calm as she slept and now she was frantically searching his face and her breathing was all wrong and she had a death grip on Abel and her voice was starting to come out in frantic bursts of terrified energy, "You-you-you cooked me breakfast to ask-to ask-to ask me for a divorce?"

His jaw dropped and his brows arched and suddenly dropped then narrowed at her. "Give him to me," he demanded with every effort to control the anger that was starting to creep up within him. What right did she have to always second guess him now?

Divorce? Is she serious?

She didn't move and so Elliot simply began to pry the little body out of her hands and she immediately protested, "No-no-no-no-no-"

"Stop it!" Elliot hissed and locked his demanding eyes on hers, "Just stop it. Now! Give him to me," he commanded once more and continued to extract him from her grasp.

She'd felt the fabric of his onsie slip through her fingers and she knew as she watched Elliot slowly rise with the baby boy in his hands that he was leaving her, that he'd tried to make the request for a divorce as soft as possible for her over one of her favorite breakfast meals, but what she didn't understand was why he was simply laying Abel on the opposite side of the couch, perhaps this was where he sat next to her and discussed how they would divide everything up, who would have custody of the kids, the house, the money, the gyms.

She was going to vomit.

And suddenly, just as the feeling of nausea slammed deep into her gut, sitting there like a lead weight, she felt him grab her under her arm, his hand rough and possessive and demanding movement from her without her permission. "Get up," he demanded and before she could protest the yanking of her body she was standing up and the need to vomit was almost as demanding as his hand was and if he kept walking and pushing her along this fast she was gonna toss whatever little food was in her stomach right there on the kitchen floor.

Kitchen? That was fast. Too fast because now her head was spinning and vomit was inevitable if she didn't get to a chair fast.

And just as soon as she was praying for the chair, Elliot had roughly, without concern for her body, plopped her into one, "Eat your food," he told her and pulled up a chair next to her, "Eat it."

She was gonna hurl right there and coat that perfect damn omelet with chunks of whatever she ate last, "I'm gonna be sick," she moaned and pushed the plate away.

In frustration he slammed his palm against the table and her freshly poured orange juice sloshed out of the glass, splattering on the table, "Eat it!"

"I can't!" she hissed and pushed the plate further until it knocked into the glass of juice and tipped it completely over. She stood immediately to avoid the liquid drenching her and she wished she hadn't at all because the sudden, fast motion made her abdomen constrict as Elliot moved his own plate away from the sea of juice and stood just in time to steady her wobble.

"Liv-" he tried to sooth her, suddenly sorry for his poor choice of tactics but she suddenly jerked away from him and bolted to the boys' restroom, her hand over her mouth even as she fell to her knees and leaned over the toilet just in time to produce enough dry heaves to pull tears from her eyes.

She could do it. She could raise the kids on her own. She could. No she couldn't. She groaned and the only thing worse than being sick was not being able to puke and purge your body of the nausea. She groaned as her body shook and she rolled back on her heels before collapsing her body completely and balling herself against the wall her head thudding against the wall as she stared up at the ceiling, hoping her tears would stop spilling out of her eyes.

"Olivia," Elliot's voice made her tears hotter and faster if that were possible and when he slowly and painfully lowered his body next to hers she tried to get closer to the side of the tub, deeper into the wall and just away from him. Away from the termination of their marriage.

Away from the happiest times of her life.

"You could climb into the tub and I'll still be here," he whispered and chuckled to himself when she simply swiped at a tear and turned her face from him. "Your accuracy for being right was much higher when you were a detective," he whispered and there was something in his voice that made her want to reach behind her for her son's towel and wrap it around his neck and twist and twist until the blood vessels in his eyes bursts.

He was teasing her.

"Fuck you," she whispered and stared into the tub. She really needed to clean it.

His mouth fell into an O and he was trying everything he had not to laugh in complete hysterics. Never had she ever went this route with him or anyone else he knew of. The 'F' bomb wasn't entirely her but he's ashamed to say he had to command his groin to 'stay' or risk it displaying its complete approval of her choice of words.

"Fuck me?" he asked just as simply as he'd ask _Does this tie match?_

"That's what I said," she whispered, still assessing the bath tub. She had to remind the boys to flip the fan when they took showers. "Fuck you."

And he couldn't help it any longer, his hand rested over his chest and he laughed, his chest rumbling with laughter, "If I was gonna leave you, I'd empty the bank account not the refrigerator."

Her face snapped around and she fought back the sickness that the motion created, "Fuck you."

"You keep saying that," he smiled and propped his chin into his palm.

Resolutely, she tried to save face, "I don't care if you leave."

He grinned and nodded to the toilet, "You're such a liar."

She took a deep breath, shuddered and hugged herself for long moments, "You're not leaving?"

He laughed again, "No, and I want you to know I burned my finger a little making your omelet."

She smirked, "You made it sound like…like…"

"I just wanted to know…," he shrugged his shoulder, "If you were happy before you met me… if you were happy, at all?"

"I'm having a rough couple of years," she responded lamely.

"Just sort of happens to be the same years you've been married to me," he muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded and finally looked at him. Glared at him.

He exhaled, "I'm just saying-"

"You were the one who hunted and snooped and prodded Elliot! You were the one who went behind my back and you were the one that wouldn't let the past be in the past-"

His faced crumbled, "You-you blame me? You blame me for helping you come to terms with your rape?"

She rest her head against the wall again, "I was never going to tell you. I don't think I was going to."

So that's what having the air knocked out of you feels like early in the morning. "What?'

"My life completely fell apart… I didn't ever want to tell you because I never wanted you to see me like this."

"So… you do blame me?"

She exhaled, "Shut up, Elliot."

He stood as fast as his body would let him and yanked her up just as quickly before taking her back to the kitchen, "You can blame me all you want!" He snapped at her, "I don't care! You're gonna sit her and your gonna eat my omelet and your gonna damn well enjoy the breakfast I made you!"

"Let me go!" she hissed and was quickly seated again and faced with the omelet that belonged to him.

His lips were suddenly at her ear as he hovered over her, "You can blame me all you want but I don't. Do you hear me? I don't blame myself for bringing it to light because I love the person you are, I love every part of you, the good and the bad and yeah, even the emotional you, so sooner or later you're gonna have to accept it-"

"Elliot-"

He cut her off, grabbing a fork and sloppily slamming it into the pate the loud clanging of metal against the plate and the angry voices waking up Abel, "Eat your food!" Elliot growled and just as quickly as he'd gotten her to the table, he left.


	25. Break Down

She'd eaten the omelet in silence and the only thing she could think of, even as it set heavy in her belly making her all the

Alex sat in a dilapidated chair in the damp and dark corner of a motel room with her exhausted son sleeping in her arms. It was the second hotel room in her journey to disappear. To somehow slip into the darkness that her heart felt and become one with it- if only to hide herself from everyone. Forever. The early morning flight had reeked havoc on her and had practically made her usually sweet son a force to be reckoned with. She must have apologized a half a million times to the passengers next to her as he repeatedly screeched and cried and sobbed.

She'd wished Robert was there to sooth him.

She'd thought, as he cried and wailed and hollered even as she strapped him into the smallest and most economical rental car she could find, that she'd never be able to quiet him. He pled and demanded to see his daddy. His labored cries had led into coughing fits as they drove to the below-modest motel. She looked at him periodically through the rear-view mirror only to see that his face with furious red and registered such confusion and longing for his father that she'd almost turned the vehicle around opting for New York.

Almost.

His crying hadn't ceased when they checked in during the early hours of the morning, nor did it abate when she walked with him on her hip, their luggage in tow trying to get into the room. It didn't stop when she offered him food for his belly and it didn't budge even when she sat and rocked him in the chair. It did however finally stop when he simply didn't have anything else to offer. When he could no longer tell his mommy that he missed his daddy so much.

"We won't be here very long honey. I promise," Alex whispered as he slept. "Mom's gonna find a job. Save up and we'll get a house… you can have your own room."

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She'd eaten the omelet in silence and the only thing she could think of, even as it set heavy in her belly making her all the more sick, was that he himself hadn't eaten and he was sitting outside on the deck hunched over in a chair. Disappointed in her. Again. She'd already had the ingredients mapped out in her mind as to what she would put in his omelet. Extra mushrooms, diced as small as possible the way he liked them. Ham, he enjoyed large chunky masses of ham in his omelet and jalapeños. He'd want those too.

It was perfect and her stomach was terror. But the omelet he'd made her was soaked in juice and the omelet he'd made himself was threatening to rise from the depth of her belly. He'd sacrificed it for her, even though he was angry with her. He'd always look out for her. Always.

She could at least make sure he had breakfast.

She crammed a bottle of water in the pocket of her flannel pants and carefully took the omelet out to the deck, negotiating the sliding glass door and simply leaving it open as she crossed from the carpet to the deck. Nervously, she cleared her throat and he didn't so much as move a muscle.

She took a deep breath, "I… I um… you didn't eat, and I know its my fault, but… I made you an omelet."

He's been sitting there so quietly that she wasn't sure if this would be a knock out fight or if he would allow her to apologize. The soft sun of the morning highlighted his face as he turned slowly to her and looked at the plate. A peace offering he knew.

Why couldn't she just accept his love and know that no matter what she looked like, acted like or smelled like, he'd love her. Why couldn't she accept the fact that she wielded a power over him that made him want her every second of every day. He wanted to slip into the warm safety of her body, he wanted to hold her on the couch after a long day and watch a ridiculous Disney movie with the kids. He wanted to sip hot chocolate with her in the winter, drink ice tea in the summer, dance naked with her as close as possible. Why couldn't she understand that.

His eyes finally left the plate and settled on her face, why couldn't she see that she needed to go to the counseling that was being offered? Why couldn't she know that he wanted so badly for her to go so she could understand that what she felt is what other women have felt and feel. Why didn't she know that he just wanted her to go so that she could heal?

She couldn't tell what he was thinking but he was certainly thinking, she could tell by the intensity in his eyes, the crease in his forehead and the dip of his brows, "El-I"

"There mushrooms in it?" he asked, jerking his head to the plate, "Ham?"

She presented the plate with both palms and smiled softly, "Jalapeños too… the way you like it."

"You gonna eat that with me?" he asked and stood slowly, his face serious, still not eluding that anything more than frustration not matter how much he tried to mask it.

She swallowed, stared down at the small breakfast and felt her own rumble in her stomach. She was gonna puke if she ate another bite not to mention the fact that the jalapeños were likely to give her indigestion, "If you want me, too."

He smirked, just slightly and slowly closed the gap between them, taking the plate from her hand and placing it on the small outdoor table. She started to protest, not understanding what was happening and he simply tugged her wrists, placing them around his hips and resting them at the small of his back.

Stray strands of hair wisped gently in the air as the cool morning breeze wrapped around them. His nose tickled and he simply buried it deeper into the scent of her hair. He raised his hand, cupped the back of her head and kissed the crown of her skull. "Sometimes," he whispered gently, "Sometimes you burn the omelet… is it burnt?"

He felt her smile against his chest as she mumbled, "No."

"That's good," he said softly and placed his hand on her waist, kept his other against her hair, "that's really good."

"Elliot," she whispered and raised her head against his chest to look up at him, "I'm sorry."

He nodded gently, "I know."

Her eyes fell, "I say that a lot don't I? And then… and then I expect you to just forgive me? That's wrong. Isn't it?"

"It's not wrong that you trust me to forgive you, Liv… but… it is wrong that you don't trust me to love you through all of this mess."

Her lips tightened and she nodded, "I'm sorry I do this to you, Elliot. I'm sorry… I'm sorry you have a wife that is this messed up."

He smiled warmly and tipped her chin up, his lips pressed tenderly against hers, "I have a wife whose a fighter…she's just been on hiatus for awhile." She bowed her head, flattened the curve of her lips into a line and he tipped her chin back up, "Do you know where I can find her? Do you know where she went?"

She slammed her eyes shut and tears spilled freely, "Elliot-"

"Say she's right here, Liv." He whispered and held her tightly against him.

"I can't," she cried, "I can't. I don't know where she is or what happen-"

"Say it," he whispered again, "Say it baby, say she's right here."

"I ca-"

"Say it."

"El-"

"Say it," he whispered again, his voice never changing, "Say it. Say she's right here, Liv. Say it."

She cried harder, wrapped her arms around his neck and struggled to get her words out, "She's right here."

He grinned and gently sat back down, pulling her with him and helping her curl her body into his lap as she struggled to gain composure, "I'm glad you found her," he told her and caressed her face, let his thumb run tenderly over her moist cheek, "I'm so glad you found her, Liv."

She sniffled, and pulled her body closer to his, "I want to be strong again, I do… But, I don't know how to get there."

He stroked her thigh tenderly as he held her, "Olivia," he took in a slow breath and tightened his embrace on her, "you have to go to the counsl-"

"No."

"You either go on your own will," he told her gently but with a sternness creeping up, "or I will make you go."

She jerked back and stared at him, "You'll _make_ me?" _Please_ _make me. Please make me. I need you to make me, Elliot._

He swallowed, realized he was on dangerous ground with her, "Yes… Vivian-"

"I don't care about Vivian," she shook her head_. I care about you and me and I just need you to tell me that you'll take me today. Right now. Please!_

He offered a more logical route, hoping to appeal to her senses, "She's just like a doctor, Liv and if she thinks it'll help then-"

She sat up straighter gearing for a new phase of their fight, "You're doctor thinks you need a cane, Elliot but don't think I haven't noticed you ditched it again." _Why are you fighting him? Why? Just let him take you, he said he would!_

He bit his bottom lip and looked back at her, "I'm not gonna let you treat me like I'm the bad guy," he said in the most neutral voice he could muster, "I won't let you-"

She smirked bitterly, "You're not letting me do a whole lot are you? Must make you feel like a real man-"

He swallowed, held her even tighter and kissed her cheek even as she tried to pull away from his lips, "I'm not the bad guy, Liv… I'm giving you a month to decide to go on your own… or I will shove you in my car and drag you there myself."

"A month?" she scoffed, "Please." _Please don't wait that long. I won't make it, Elliot._

"That's your option, Liv."

She broke his hold from around her and stood up, "Option? So know I get options?" she hissed. _I don't want options! I need you to make this decision for me!_

He continued to sit silently and reached for the plate of food, bringing it close to him and very quietly took a bite of the luke-warm omelet. "You have your choice," he said around a bite and simply leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs and enjoying his wife's cooking.

His easy silence infuriated her as much as frustrated her. She grabbed the water from her pocket and launched it at him narrowly missing his head as it flew over his shoulder. "I don't want options, Elliot!"

He took another bite, shifting it so it swelled his cheek, "I'm giving you a month to think about it."

She tangled her hands at the side of her head, "I don't want a month!" she screeched. Her eyes wild and afraid and searching for stability in life.

He swallowed and prepared another bite, "Then what do you want?" he asked sincerely before putting a chunk of ham in his mouth.

"I don't want a month!" she hollered again, "I want right _now_!" she sobbed, her fists in front of her belly, adding to her plea, "I _need_ right now!"

He furrowed his brow, placed the plate back on the table, "What?"

She collapsed her weight into the first available chair and dug her elbows into her thighs as she held her head and cried "Not a month!"

He made his way to her, kneeled painfully in front of her and held her cheek with the warmth of his hand, "I can't give you more time than that, Liv."

She slapped his wrist away and turned her face from his gaze, her tears flowing hotter and faster than before. Why couldn't he just accept the peace offering and eat it? Why did he have to do this to her? Why was he so intent on breaking her so completely?

"A month, Olivia… that's all I do-"

Out of frustration she grabbed at his shirt, fisted the material in both of her hands and the chords of her neck bulged with the pain of her plea as she yelled at him, her eyes maniacal and hooded with exhaustion and anger, "I don't need a month!" she screeched and shoved at his chest as she sobbed, "I don't want options!"

He kept his composure in the midst of her insanity and simply rest his larger hand over her fist that held his shirt hostage, "What do you want? Tell me," he said softly.

She pulled at him harder, the collar of his tee shirt ripping with the force of her need for him to understand what she was asking, "I need you to take this from me!"

He furrowed his brows, that's what he's been trying to do since the day he met her and realized there was something so heavy in her eyes. So dark. He's been trying to heal this wound before he knew it existed.

"Give it to me," he said still covering her hands with one of his, hoping her grasp didn't get any tighter.

She broke again, leaned into him and rested her temple against his, "I'm trying!" she sobbed, "I'm trying so hard."

"Take the month, Liv-" he said softly.

Her grasp tightened around his tee and his oxygen was starting to become restricted yet he also felt that he was on to something, that he could get her to agree to a time line although he had no negative reinforcer to force compliance.

"Liv-"

She sobbed as if she were grieving the loss of a loved one, that deep guttural cry that starts so far down in your stomach you think its your soul crying out for salvation and maybe that was precisely what was happening here, "I need you to take me," she cried, "I need you take me, Elliot."

"I want to," he nodded, "I do. You know that, but-"

"No buts," she shook her head against his forehead, "I won't… I can't go a month, Elliot," she sniffled. "Please… please don't give me a choice," she cried, "Please… please _make_ me do this. I need you to take me, because I can't go on my own, please?"

He pulled back slowly and gently pried her hands from his shirt, caressed her face in her palms and smiled, "You don't want a month… because you need me to take you now?"

She bit her bottom lip, and nodded, "Please, Elliot? Please, be my husband? Please?"

His smiled turned into a grin and he pulled her face to his, kissed her with urgency, his lips against hers, her tears on his lips before he pulled back and looked at her with such hope on his face, "Had I known you wanted me to go barbaric… I'd of clubbed you a few days ago."

She let out a half sob and wrapped her arms around his neck, "Please don't give me a choice in this… I'm so scared I'll make the wrong one."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Wake up sweet girl," Olivia whispered as she gently rubbed Hannah's tiny back. When the brunette toddler didn't budge, Olivia tenderly pushed her daughter's hair back and kissed her chubby cheek, "Its wake time honey," Olivia cooed and smiled as her daughter started to move and groan as the sunlight filtered in through the window.

"Mama?" Hannah said, her voice dripping in sleep. "I tired."

Olivia grinned, "I know you are baby, but I want to hold you."

Hannah giggled, "Yous holds me and get me a kitty?"

"A kitty?"

"I no hit Solo," Hannah reminded her and sat slowly in the rocker with her daughter in her lap.

"I've noticed that," Olivia whispered, "and you're so amazing for not hitting."

"Mommy?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Where my daddy?"

Olivia took in a soft breath of air and gently brought her daughter's forehead to her lips, "He's making an important phone call for mommy."

"'Portent?"

"Yeah," Olivia nodded, "Very."

"Mommy? I gotta potty," she said suddenly anxious as she tried to slide off of her mother's lap, "I gotta pee pee, hurry."

Olivia chuckled and walked quickly with her daughter into the kids' bathroom helping her with her night clothes and eventually onto to the toilet, "Got it pumpkin?"

"Yeah," Hannah yawned and tended to her business, getting help from her mother when she requested it and waving goodbye to the used toilet paper as she flushed the toilet. "My teesies mommy?"

Olivia grinned, "Sure. Little jump," she said and helped her daughter sit on the counter.

"Mommy?" Hannah asked again as her mother helped her with a rag over her small hands, "My broder? Hims get a room?"

"A room?" Olivia furrowed her brows and produced a perfect bead of paste on her daughter's tooth brush.

"Yeah… Daddy said Solo get a room."

Olivia nodded, "Yep. He will, Frankie is coming over this morning and he and daddy are gonna talk about it."

Hannah's face fell and her lower lip stuck out, her large brown eyes filling with water. Olivia tipped her chin up to begin brushing her teeth and stopped when she saw her daughter's downcast face, "Pumpkin? What is it?"

Her voice was tender, sad, "Solo get a snakie."

"Did that hurt your feelings? You got a frog, remember?"

Hannah exhaled, pursed her lips like she's seen her father do so many times, "I killded him… Solo get a snakie and him get hims room… wif'out me."

Olivia held her daughter's cheek in her palm, "Baby? Do you not want to be away from Solo?"

Hannah's brows lifted just slightly, "I luv broder."

Olivia's eyes watered, what had she done pleading with Elliot to separate their littlest ones, "Honey, you'll have your own room, too… aren't you excited about that?"

Hannah shook her head, "Super scary."

"Solomon slept with the boys last night… was it scary without him?"

Hannah worried her lip and nodded softly, "Super scary wif'out my broder."

Olivia stared down at the Flinstones tooth brush in her hand and didn't know what to do. She knew Elliot was saving her in the other room, right now, but what she didn't know was what to do with Hannah. This separation anxiety from Hannah was not something she had expected. Not at all. She thought Hannah would be happy about it.

And instead of talking it out with her only daughter she had, she did the only thing she could think of, "Open wide, baby."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Chloe?" Donovan smiled, encircling her waist with his arm and kissing her cheek softly, "You look amazing and completely confused… what's up sexy?" He asked as he looked at her through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

She bowed her head and grinned, "Shut up."

"I'm serious," he chuckled in her ear. "You are so sexy and you're pregnant and that makes you like, exponentially sexy… but you also look like a deer caught in the head lights. Care to share?"

Chloe smirked, turned in his embrace, "You got it wrong."

"Do not."

"Do… I'm not confused. Elliot called, he needs some help."

Donovan arched a brow, "Oh really? What type of help?" he teased and pulled her hips close to his so they meshed with one another and when she gasped he kissed the corner of her mouth and hummed a chuckle, "I'm the only one that you can help like that."

She chuckled and slapped his shoulder playfully, "Not like that you over-sexed man!"

He chuckled even more and pinned her between his forming erection and the counter top of the restroom, his lips on her neck, "You complaining?"

She reached between the two of them and cupped him through his pajama bottoms, "Did you hear me complaining this morning?"

"Yep," he nodded and stood straight to look at her as he continued to tease, "You said – and I quote – come on Donovan, it's too early for sex, It'll be better at nine, I promise." He grinned, "Sounded like complaining to me."

She bit her bottom lip and peered up at him, her fingers tickling his crotch in gentle, barely there strokes, "Yeah, but that was before you kissed me."

His grin was wicked, "Where? Tell me, I forgot."

She chuckled, "You didn't forget. Stop. I have to get ready."

"For what?"

"I told you," she kissed him chastely on the mouth, "Elliot called… he wants me to come over."

Donovan furrowed his brows faking a pout, "He trying to steal my woman? Doesn't he already have one? Selfish bastard."

Her grin was delicious as she stood tip toed and kissed his lips playfully, "Stop being jealous."

"I think he likes you," he played fully aware that Elliot was so focused on his own wife no other woman stood a chance no matter who were they were and Chloe? Well he liked to think she was so hung up on him as her husband that Elliot didn't stand a chance either.

She came back on her tip-toes and placed her lips near his ear, "There's no way he'd ever make me come with his mouth the way you did this morning. No way."

He beamed boyishly and nodded cockily as he touched her inner thigh, "You liked that kiss this morning, huh?"

Her face grew flush as she nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, you know I did… I have to get ready."

He released her with a smile and leaned up against the counter, "Are the Stabler's okay?"

She furrowed her brow and pulled open the closet doors, "I don't know… Elliot sounded frazzled… Why don't you come with me? Maybe it'll be good for Elliot to have you around."

Donovan leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest, "Chloe? Not that I'm saying the Stabler's don't care for us but… when is the last time Elliot himself called and asked you to go to the house?"

Chloe slid into a pair of jeans and buckled them before looking at her husband, "Okay, for starters… I need new clothes, the baby is starting to add some weight on me," she smiled, "and… what do you mean? Come on, Donovan… you're not suggesting that there's something between Elliot and I… are you?"

He laughed softly, "No. Absolutely not. Not with his receeding hairline," he joked, "I'm just saying… do you think something might be wrong?"

Chloe exhaled, "Well, actually, I think something is wrong… he asked me to take Olivia out."

Donovan pushed himself off of the wall and opened the top drawer of the dresser, withdrawing a bra that was his favorite and handing it to her, "Please? It's my favorite."

She smirked, took it and put it on before reaching for a t-shirt on the bed, "what's the deal Donovan? Why are you going all Monk on me?"

"Just..." he exhaled and started to pull out his own clothing, "I mean… I know they care for us, and we go to dinner with them periodically but, they don't just randomly call for things like this… You think Olivia is flipping her lid?"

"About Abel?"

"Yeah… she looked like hell at the bar-b-que," he said and slipped into a pair of jeans, buckleing them and pulling for a shirt.

"Nice ass," she said and slapped his buttock as she walked by, "wear the grey shirt… it's my favorite."

He smiled, his teeth showing and he shook his head in happiness. His wife was quite possibly the most awesome woman he's ever known. "I'm just saying," he continued as she began the tasks of doing her make-up and hair, "usually… we're not the first line of defense, I mean… they are usually there more for us then we are for them… They've got the Novaks and the Greys… really-I mean- it must be total chaos if they need us."

She leaned her hip against the sink of the bathroom and smiled at him, "Then lets show them that we might be young, but… we can be there for them too."

Donovan nodded, "Okay… I suppose I can break from my X-box and go… I'll get Matthew up."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Nanah!" Solomon yelled with all of his might as he barreled down the hall-way from his brothers' room, "Nanah! Where yous at?" he demanded as hot tears flowed down his cheeks and his tiny bare feet slammed against the carpet, his blond hair bouncing here and there as he ran, "Nanah!"

"Hey," Olivia stepped out of Hannah's room and cut his frantic body off in the hall. "What's the deal with all the yelling?" she asked softly and kneeled to look at him.

"Sissy?" he sobbed and rubbed his eyes with pudgy fist, "I wakes up and she not wit'me!"

"Hey," she said softly and tenderly lowered his hands, wiping his cheeks with her thumbs, "remember you guys are gonna have your own rooms soon and right now you're camping out with your brothers?"

Solomon looked at his mother and his blue eyes were frantic, "Mommer… I wan my Nanah."

Olivia smiled, kissed his cheek and gently lifted her son into her arms, "Well all you had to do was ask instead of trying to wake up the whole house," she teased. "Sister is getting her play clothes on… can you go get yours and wake up your brothers?"

"Ugggh," Sam groaned from the side of the hall, "he already did…. Man, he screams like a girl."

"Do not!" Solomon pouted and threw his arms around his mother's neck, "Send him time out, Mommer."

"Morning, Samuel," Olivia smiled and absently kissed Solomon on his cheek as she walked to her oldest boy and wrapped her arm around him, another kiss for another son, "Did you sleep better?"

"Yeah, until Barbie here, started shouting," he teased and felt for his little brother, tickling him playfully. "Come on Solo, I was just playing."

Solomon buried his face in his mother neck, "Not talkin' to yous."

"Well," Sam teased all the more and Olivia let him because she had no problems letting Sam act like a big brother and all big brothers teased and tortured their little brothers at some point. That and Sam's teasing was always innocent and he would always know how to make his littlest brother smile. "I guess, I'll just eat all the fruit loops then."

"Hey!" Solomon instantly squirmed out of his mother's embrace and yanked at his brother's pajama's, "I wan'some."

Sam ran his hand through his brother's hair, "Then stop being so loud, geeze,"

"Potty, sammy," Solomon yanked on his brothers shorts again, "Pweeze?"

Sam, reached out, felt for his mother's form and kissed her cheek, "Morning."

"Morning, handsome… do you want me to take him?"

"No," Sam smiled softly and yawned, "I will."

"POTTY!" Solomon yelled and bolted to the restroom unconcerned if his brother was following or not.

"Hey sexy," Elliot's voice compelled her to turn slowly and face the office as he leaned against the wall, the chordless phone in his hand, resting against his chin.

She fiddled with the drawstring to her flannels and lowered her head, "I need to wake up Isaac."

"He's asleep in our bed… he woke me up this morning, said his mother was snoring," he chuckled softly but remained where he was.

Olivia nodded towards Hannah's room, "I should make sure she gets dressed."

He pushed off of the wall and wrapped his hand around her wrist as she attempted to walk into Hannah's bedroom. She stopped, her wrist limp in his grasp until her pulled gently and she turned to look at him, "She'll need-"

"She can do it," he whispered tenderly and pulled her close to his body, his arm encircling her waist with the phone, his free hand on her cheek. "It was a good omelet."

She smiled weakly and leaned into his hand, "It was the least I could do."

He lowered his hand just slightly and grazed his thumb over her bottom lip, "I called."

Her brows furrowed and she nodded as her eyes filled with tears but she said nothing, instead, she leaned into him and rest her head against his chest, "I'm not going," she finally whispered, "I can't."

He tightened his hold on her and kissed the crown on her head, "You are going. It's not an option anymore."

She fisted the material of his shirt in her hands at the small of his back and let out a sob, "Thank you."

He smiled sweetly against her hair and closed his eyes in relief. He waited a few moments, "I have the plans that you wanted to tell Frankie… he'll be here in a few hours, but Chloe is coming and she's gonna take you out."

She pulled back and looked at him, wiped her cheeks quickly, "Chloe? What?"

"Yeah," he nodded and took a tiny step closer to her, his finger tips touching her wet cheek gently.

She arched her brow, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He licked his lips and swallowed, smiled on the inside that he could hear Sam grumbling with Solomon just down the hall and his only daughter was obviously and very nosily digging through her closet for clothes her mother wouldn't approve of her wearing and his two other sons were sleeping peacefully in the room just behind him. He smiled at all of that but knew he had to come clean with her and she would more than likely chose their hurting friend over her dieing self.

"Elliot?" she tilted her head and assessed him before calling tenderly into their daughter's room, "Honey- just the clothes on your bed, no dresses today, pumpkin."

Hannah giggled, "Kay, Mama."

"Liv?" Elliot's eyes locked on hers and whatever he was about to say, she knew it was loaded.

"Just say it," she said softly.

He swallowed and it took everything he had to keep his eyes on hers, "I lied to you."

She winced, was obviously caught off guard, "What? Why? W-what about?"

He stared down at the phone in his hand and then looked back up at her, "Our gate wasn't open last night… it wasn't Mr. Passtran at the door last night."

Her face was blank but she was still looking at him, her voice was raw, "Who was it, then?"

"Casey."

"Casey?" she asked and the corners of her mouth were twitching.

"I'm sorry."

"What did she want?" she asked, biting the inside of her cheeks as he struggled to gather his thoughts.

He cleared his throat in nervousness and blinked rapidly bracing for her wrath, "She found Alex," he whispered, "She found her and wanted to see you-"

She bowed her head and the corners of her lips lifted completely as she lifted her head and looked at him. A full smile on her face. "I know… I heard."

He blanched and pulled back slightly, "Excuse me?"

She cupped his cheek, "I heard you talking to her and I was wondering why she was here so late… I got up but I heard you tell her no and then I heard why-"

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely, "I'm sorry I overstepped my bounds, Liv-"

She gently moved her thumb over his cheek, "At first I didn't understand why you were doing it, but I heard you say…," her voice began to crack, "I heard you say, that our marriage needed me more-"

"Liv-"

"And you were right," she nodded, traced his hairline just over his ear, "you were. You are," she shook her head, "I can't be there for her right now. I can't. I'm not strong enough and… Elliot… I need you, right now. As much as I want to help her… I need you."

He grinned even as a tear spilled down his cheek and he turned to kiss her palm before lowering her hand and grasping her behind her neck, pulling her close and kissing her with urgency and passion and thankfulness and all the things that they were in that moment.

"Hey!" Hannah giggled, "Dat' grootie!"

Elliot smiled and attempted to pull away but Olivia held his face, brought him back to her and kissed him, gave him everything, even the things she didn't understand how to give, she decided in that precise moment that she would at least try. That she could do it. That she would surge with power and win this. With him. For him.

For them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chloe's hair lifted in the slight breeze as she sat across the small circle of a table of the patio café from her friend. The air was perfect, crisp and gentle at the same time. It was that air that made everything right. The air that reminded you of your grandmother's house when you were a child, the air that made you feel inches taller and strides faster. It was perfect yet for some reason, it didn't lift Olivia's hair the same way. In fact the air seemed to be so far away from Olivia that one could almost assume it was avoiding her.

Chloe ran her hands over the tiny swell of her abdomen and took her friend into consideration. How long had it been since she she'd seen her? Long enough for the dark circles to set in just under her eyes? Long enough that she's changed her hair so drastically? Long enough that her smile is broken. Long enough.

"That coffee was like eighteen dollars," Chloe teased softly, "and you haven't so much as taken a sip… You find a bug in it?"

Olivia blinked rapidly and furrowed her brows at Chloe, "Hmmm? What?"

Chloe smiled and leaned back in her chair, "Donovan has this crazy theory about you and Elliot right now."

Olivia thumbed her brow, inhaled a breath of air and picked at the insulator to her coffee cup, "Yeah? What?"

Chloe took a healthy sip of her coffee before placing it back on the table and picking up her fork, "I love the quiche here. It's really good but I can't get Matthew to eat it."

"He's five," Olivia attempted a smile, "No five year-olds I know of like quiche."

Chloe lifted her fork to her mouth and grinned around a fresh bite, her black bangs falling over her eyes as she peered through them at her friend, "Yeah, I know….You want to know?"

"What?" Olivia raised her brows quickly and then smiled leaning into their conversation, "Did you find out what you and Donovan are going to have?"

Chloe arched her brow and leaned into the conversation so that both women were only inches away from one another, "Olivia," Chloe's tone signaled absolute seriousness and she wondered if Olivia's stomach just churned, "stop. Sooner or later, you are going to have to accept that you and Elliot might be our mentors but you can also lean on us too. We're young, but… we're not stupid."

"Chloe," Olivia shook her head softly and her face registered sincerity, "No. No, we never once thought of you or Donovan in that light. Never."

"Then," Chloe exhaled motioned between the two of them, "what is this? Stop sitting here pretending everything is okay. I wanted to do something nice for you today and you ended up taking me shopping for the baby… it was supposed to be the other way around. I was supposed to take you out, load you up on empty calories and let you vent and tell me what's going on."

Olivia exhaled in frustration and leaned back, "Nothing is going on," she groaned.

Chloe bit her bottom lip, her frustration budding, "You think I'm some kid that has nothing to offer you," she said quietly, her head bowing.

"I told you," Olivia ran her hand through her hair, "that's not what I think."

"Yeah," Chloe's nostrils flared and while she remained calm, her inability to understand why Olivia could mentor her but not lean on her gave way to bitterness. "You know what else I know? I know that you are a hypocrite for wanting to watch out for me but you never let me do the same for you."

"Chl-"

"No. Not a hypocrite," Chloe dug in her purse, her face turning angry red, "a bitch."

"Woaw!" Olivia chirped and immediately covered Chloe's hand, stopping her rummaging, "Woaw… was that a hormonal snap?"

Chloe snatched her hand back and finally retrieved her wallet, "No, Olivia," she snipped, "that was a honest-to-god-you're-frustrating-the-hell-out-of-me-with-you're-one-sided-friendship-bullshit!"

Olivia arched her brows in surprised and shock and just a smidge of hurt, "Chloe, come on-" Olivia said softly as the long-haired brunette threw down a small amount of money to cover her tab. "Chloe!" Olivia snapped louder and stood as the young girl started to gather her things after standing, "Will you just sit down! Please?"

Chloe turned back to Olivia, caught another older lady starring at the both of them before she locked her gaze with Olivia again, "Are you gonna beat around the bush or are you gonna get your balls out of your damn pocket and fucking talk to me?"

Olivia's eyes widened and her head moved imperceptibly backwards, "I," she exhaled nodded gently, "I guess I don't have a choice."

Chloe's face burst into grin and she dropped her bags immediately taking her seat, "You want another coffee?"

Olivia's jaw dropped. Perhaps she did underestimate the youngster because this was not the same young passive girl Olivia was used to, "You've got to be hormonal."

"Nope," Chloe grinned again pulled her uneaten quiche back to her, "not at all… so spill it. What's going on with you?"

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The town sucked. It was miles and miles of flat, and just when you thought the scenery might change, it was flat again. Nothing like she's seen in the brochures that talked of bliss and unmatched happiness. Talk about false advertisement. This place is like nothing she's ever seen and it's not like any other place she's been to. The architecture is bland, blending into the background without distinction or uniqueness, the air is so dry she immediately felt parched when she woke and she wonders if this morning is going to be just as rough as yesterday was with Thomas. Knows it will be.

She jumped at the light tapping on the door and she moved immediately to it, not wanting her son to wake up any sooner then he had to. She didn't want to hear his pleas for his father any sooner than she had to. She stood on his tip toes and squinted into the dirty peep-hole and exhaled in relief, he was just in time.

Alex didn't care what she looked like, didn't care about her blood-shot eyes or slightly uncombed hair, all she cared about was what the man on the other side of the door had to offer her. She opened the door and smiled weekly at the stalky, partially bald, green eye suit. "Thank you for coming."

His smile was warm and compassionate, "You sounded horrible on the phone, Ms. Cabbot. I thought I should get to you as soon as possible."

She nodded, bowed her head and moved to the side as she waved him into the shabby motel with her arm. "Please, my son is asleep."

"Son?" His brows shot up to his non-existent hairline and he turned to Alex with a much more pleasant smile, "A son?"

Alex grinned and nodded, "Yeah… haven't seen you in-"

"Since the program," he nodded knowingly and sat at the tiny table with mismatched chairs. "I've got to tell you Ms. Cabbot, it would have been easier if you returned to California to do this, I mean this state, really isn't you-"

"Either was California," Alex muttered and took a seat on the foot of the bed careful not to jostle too much and risk waking her son. "Look… you killed me in New York, you got me clear across country and I was safe and I did well-"

He exhaled and leaned back in the chair, "I killed you in New York because that's what they asked me to do. It was my job-"

"It's still your job," Alex reminded him. "Right? The program? It's still what you do?"

"Yes, it is. But Ms. Cabbot, your threat was removed years ago… you've returned back to New York," he chuckled and motioned to her son, then her wedding ring she still can't take off, "you obviously have a family… Someone who loves you-"

Alex stood and removed an envelope, tossed it carelessly onto the table top and reclaimed her position on the bed, "I'm assuming that's at least a few months of your wages from the FBI… I'll get you more once I can land a job."

The agent picked up the envelope and peered into it's contents, "No matter how much money you give me… I can't place you in the program again Ms. Cabbott… it's not possible, there is no threat to your life there is no way I can hide you in a system like that. It's too much paperwork-"

"I'm not asking for you to hide me in the system."

The agent's brows furrowed and he held the envelope between them, "Then what are you asking for Ms. Cabbott?"

Alex looked at her son who slept peacfuly buried under the covers of the bed. She looked back at the man she'd called only days ago and who'd met her immediately, "I don't want to go into the program. I just need a new identity… I need you to kill me again."

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"The only way to go is up," Frankie shook his head as he and Elliot looked over the plans that Olivia wanted for the expansion of their home.

"Up?" Elliot took a deep breath and looked at his children all rough-housing in the living-room. "Frankie, I don't know. Stairs? We've got toddlers and a new baby… that sounds like an accident waiting to happen."

Frankie ran his fingers over the stubble of his cheek, "Well… if we expand on the sides of the house you run into property line issues and if we expand at the back you'll cut off a fair portion of your back yard and I'm just guessing with all of these kids it's not an option."

Elliot chuckled, "You makin' fun of me, Frankie?"

"Just sayin'," Frankie smiled wide, "I seem to remember you in your younger days before the NYPD got a hold of you… you were a wild little bastard."

Elliot smirked, "Kids are awesome."

"Yep," Frankie chuckled, "Just so long as you can give'em back to their parents at the end of the day."

"No," Elliot peered back at his kids, watched as Hannah and Solomon ganged up on their older brother and Isaac cheered them on to crush him, not realizing that Donovan was sneaking up to swoop him into the action, Matthew hot on Donovan's heels, "No… Olivia and these guys… Frankie, you've got no idea what life is about until the woman you love tells you you're gonna be a father."

"Or that she wants a divorce," he deadpanned.

Elliot laughed and shook his head, "Such the cynic… Frankie?"

"Yeah?" He replied still focused on measurements of the makeshift plans in front of him.

"When I was working for you… I didn't know much-"

"Still don't," the older man teased, "But… you've got a great family here, Elliot. As much shit as I give you for it, it really is a great family and you're wife has a calming affect on you… never saw that coming from you and your different woman every week."

Elliot shook his head, "Whatever old man… what's the deal? How are we pulling this off?"

"Well," Frankie exhaled, "I still say that building up is your best bet, but if you don't mind cutting into your back yard space then we can build out too… but there is a more basic option-"

"Really?" Elliot was suddenly intrigued. "What?"

Frankie smirked, "Stop having kids!"

Elliot took a breath, understood that his old boss was simply playing with him. Teasing. "Abel is our last one," he said, trying to sound as bright as possible. Finding it a difficult task.

"Well, okay," Frankie nodded with a laugh, "Good thing we've got that under control… so we're keeping the older boys in the room we did last time?"

"Yeah," Elliot nodded, "it's pretty big. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Not until they start bringing girls home," Frankie teased.

Elliot's eyes bulged. His boys bringing home girls? Holy! The only thing worse than that was… Hannah… bringing home… a boy. "It'll be okay," Elliot said, his voice dry. He picked up his lukewarm bottle of water and took the largest swig he could before placing it back on the counter.

"We can start today, you know? Start measurements and digging for the foundation."

Elliot was still wondering what Hannah's first boyfriend was going to look like, "What? Hmm? No. No, um… I'd like you to start on Friday, work a bit over the weekend and yes, I'll pay the weekend fee-"

"Don't worry about it, we're all friends here," Frankie laughed, "Any particular reason why though?"

Elliot smiled softly, "I just want to spend some time with my wife."

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"I'm sure there are women who have felt the same way you're feeling right now, Olivia," Chloe assured her. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you're not sharing everything with me, but I'm smart enough to realize that taking Abel into your home was probably not the easiest thing you've ever done."

Olivia took a deep breath of the cool air and slowly let it out, "It's probably the scariest thing I've faced… I'm afraid, Chloe."

Chloe took a sip of her coffee and swallowed as she assessed Olivia, "Scared of the baby or scared of the toll it might have on your marriage?"

Olivia smirked, "Stupid you are not," she said softly and motioned to her coffee. "You're not supposed to be drinking that."

"It's decaf… disgusting really, but lets get back to the subject. Which are you afraid of? Because if it's the toll its gonna take on your marriage, maybe you should look at Elliot when he holds Abel… that boy is his regardless of what anyone else has to say or may feel about it Olivia… including you."

Olivia considered this as another group of people took their seats just behind their table, bumping her slightly but never taking her thoughts from her. Elliot got up almost immediately when Abel cried, just as he'd done with the other kids, he bathed him, fed him, diapered the young boy and when he thought she wasn't around he sang to him. In every regard, Elliot was Abel's father and Abel brought Elliot comfort and joy and happiness.

Abel was a silver lining. Elliot's silver lining. But the question would now be, could Abel become Olivia's as well?

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"Kill you again?" The agent clarified. "You want me to kill you again?"

"Yes," she nodded, "and my son. I can't ever be found. I can't be traced, I need everything new."

He took a breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, "Well you certainly picked a state that is the complete opposite of New York and California. I'm sure no one will look for you in this hell hole."

Alex smirked, "Whole reason I picked it."

The agent rubbed the back of his neck, "I can loose my job."

"I can loose my son."

He licked his lips, worried his lower one and nodded to himself, "Okay. Okay, consider it done. I'll have the new you in twenty-four hours. I'll slip it under your door. As for my payment…" he stood to his feet and jutted his chin to the sleeping boy, "keep the second half Ms. Cabbott, being a single mom in this state is gonna be a bitch."

She smirked again and stood to escort him, "If I need anything else?"

He arched his brow in seriousness, "I'm putting my ass on the line here. If you need anything else… don't call me. Ever again."

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"Hey, Sam!" Olivia called into the house, "I have someone here to talk with you!"

Sam grinned already knowing who it would be, "Donovan told me," he blushed and made his way to the sound of his mother's voice, his arm extended to meet Chloe.

"Wow, you've grown!" Chloe grinned, "It's been forever!" she teased and hugged Sam tightly as Matthew sprinted to her yelling for her in complete happiness that she was back.

"Grown?" Sam chuckled and caught her scent, she smelled of citrus and he felt almost awkward because, for the first time, he realized that her breasts were smashed against his chest. He immediately shifted although she didn't seem to catch onto his awkward stance and simply held him tighter.

"Yes grown. You're a giant!" she teased and kissed his cheek, "A big ole good lookin' giant!"

He blushed a furious red and ducked his face, "you were just here for a bar-b-que, Chloe… I couldn't have grown that much."

"Sissy!" Matthew chuckled and pulled at her tee shirt, "Sissy! I got to wrestle and be a big boy!"

"Wrestle?" Olivia arched her brow playfully and peered at her boys who were currently plastering on their best innocent faces.

"Yeah!" Hannah laughed, "I winded all'em!"

"Oh yeah?" Olivia teased they all made their way into the living room. "Who let you wrestle?"

Solomon's mouth fell open, "Uh oh. Bushted."

Olivia grinned and lowered herself to the carpeted floor, "And why does it smell like pizza? It's still morning."

"What?" Sam furrowed his brow and pushed the button to his watch which told him it was just after noon, "Wow, mom… what did you do today because you are way off!" he joked sat on the couch with his little sister who promptly crawled into his lap and rest her back against his chest.

"Your mother," Chloe smiled and kneeled slowly to the floor, "Bought out every store in New York!"

Olivia gladly accepted Solomon into her lap and held him tightly against her, "Chloe is being imaginative."

"No I'm not," she said and promptly tickled Matthew who laughed happily against his sister, "I'm serious. There must be fifty bags in the car!"

Donovan's booming laugh came from the kitchen and he appeared at the threshold of the kitchen and living room with a slice of pizza hanging over his mouth as he attempted a bite. "Fifty, huh?" he mumbled around the pizza, "That's pretty good considering there are two of you."

Olivia rolled her eyes playfully but smiled when she caught Chloe absently kiss Matthew's head as she kept her gaze on Donovan who simply smiled back at her.

Isaac, not liking the lull in conversations, promptly stepped in, "Uncle Donovan got us pizza and ice cream and gummy bears and-"

"Woaw!" Donovan warned with a smile, "Are you crazy little dude? You're mother will kill me if you give her the whole list!"

Olivia's eyes bulged, "Whole list?"

Donovan took another bite of the pizza and chuckled, "Relax, I'll give'em some broccoli for dinner to make up for it."

"Wha!" Isaac bawked and looked up at him, "But, you said we could have-"

Donovan promptly covered the young boys mouth with his free hand and smiled at the two women who clearly were not entertained by the choice foods, "All I said was broccoli."

"And Snickers," Sam sold him out with a small smile, "you also said Snickers."

Donovan smiled and looked at Sam, "Dude, that's one less slice for you."

Olivia laughed and she enjoyed this small moment of teasing and friendliness in the light of the last few days, "Can someone please tell me where my husband is?"

"I do believe he's getting me and Chloe a diaper bag ready for tonight."

Olivia furrowed her brow and looked at Chloe then to Donovon, "Diaper bag?"

"Yeah," Sam chimed in and kissed the top of Hannah's head as he rubbed her belly softly, "Dad said that we get to go to bowling with Chloe and Donovan, and Donovan said that we get to eat a lot and that when our stomachs hurt he'll take us home and we'll barf in our beds and you'll have to clean-"

"Dude!" Donovan groaned, "You're killin' me!"

"You're taking the kids?" Olivia questioned Chloe.

"Yep," she smiled and nodded her head toward the hall, "Go talk to your husband."

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He was in his best slacks, a white button down shirt and her favorite tie hung around his neck as he brushed his teeth. He'd looked up as soon as she called his name and he smiled at her in the mirror. "Hey hottie."

Her brow arched in a gentle warning even as she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arm around his waist, rest her forehead against the flat plane of his shoulder, "The kids say they had a lot of fun and that they're going bowling... do you think that's a good idea?"

He was in the process of wiping his mouth and discarding the towel to the side before he turned around and held her at her waist, looked down at her and smiled softly, "I think that any day you and I can be alone for awhile is a great idea, yes."

She chuckled softly and he treasured it as she held him tighter around his waist. It felt so good to have her hands on him even if it wasn't as confident as it typically was. It felt good to have his wife this close to him, to smell her body wash, her shampoo, to feel the heat of her body through his shirt. It felt amazing and if it hadn't have been for her current lack of confidence he'd have taken her right there against the wall over and over again until she begged him for rest. For breath.

Instead, he kissed her gently on her cheek, "You're not just a hottie Olivia, you're a _gorgeous_ hottie," he whispered and kissed the corner of her mouth. "Why is bowling a bad idea?" he asked as he pulled away to refocus on her face and cupped her cheek.

She leaned into his palm, "The monsters aren't gonna be able to play, they'll get restless and-"

"Chloe and Donovan asked me to trust them… we've got to give'em a shot, Liv and I'm sure if they get restless they'll know what to do. Relax, huh? Just relax and go out with ,me tonight. Just you and me. Let's go out and forget about all the stress and all the junk that has piled up on us. Let's just go out, Liv."

She licked her lip, chewed her bottom one and bowed her head and obvious distress slamming into her features, "Y-you said that… you made me an appointment."

He tipped her chin up and took in the worry that swam in her eyes, "I put a dress out for you on the bed and a change of clothes in the car for you… I want you to go in there tonight, Liv with something happy in your heart," he said softly and tenderly placed his fingertips over her heart. "You've got to face this thing baby and I want to go out with you right now, just you and me so you can walk in there with at least one happy memory from the past few weeks… I want you to walk in there with me in your heart," he whispered and rested his lips against her ear, "Can you do that?"

She took in a steady breath and peered up at him, "You put a dress out for me?"

He smirked, "Strapy heels, too."

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"You look pissed, Casey."

Casey leaned against the counter of the kitchen, her arms crossed angrily over her chest, "I swear, if I ever get my hands on Alex I'm going cut her arm off and smack her with it."

Paul pulled a loaf of bread off of the refrigerator and placed the squares of wheat on the countertop, "I thought you found her. What happened?"

"I did find her," she grumbled and shifted her weight to one leg, "I found her exact location and she split."

"Her exact location?" he asked with a raised brow as he spread mayonnaise on a slice and promptly covered it with crisp lettuce.

She squinted her eyes as him and the corner of her mouth lifted just slightly, "Well, her exact location… or thereabouts."

"Casey," he scolded as he stacked the bread with meat.

"Well, I at least got the state she was in! And I even got the address of her motel, but then she decides to just split? What the hell is her problem?" she demanded.

"Swiss or Jack?"

Her head snapped to face him, "W-what?"

"Swiss or Jack?" he shrugged.

"Are you listening to me?" she demanded anxiously, "I'm telling you that I'm concerned about Alex and-"

"That's not what you told me," he told her and placed a slice of Jack cheese on her sandwich before covering it with a slice of bread, "What you told me is that if you find her you're gonna rip her apart."

"Right," Casey confirmed, "and?"

"Well," Paul pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before placing her sandwich on a plate and sliding it to her, "all I'm saying is that if I knew that people were looking for me solely to tell me what a rotten person I was… I'd make sure I stayed hidden."

Casey puffed out her cheeks in frustration, "You know that's not why I'm looking for her."

He smiled softly and started to prepare his own sandwich, "I know Case, but… say you did find her again… what will you say to her?"

Casey's eyes bulged, "I'd tell her what an idiot she's being and she needs to get her ass back to the city."

He looked at her for long seconds, "Don't you think she knows that? Did you guys ever think that she might have bailed because deep down… she didn't think we'd come through for her? I mean, maybe she thinks that whatever she did doesn't deserve forgiveness."

"It doesn't!" Casey said emphatically.

His hands stopped moving and he forgot about making his meal but turned to face her, "And you want to find her so you can tell her that?" he asked in disbelief, "Remind me again why she's your friend?"

"Paul!" Casey shrieked, "Don't be like that!"

"Like what?" he shrugged, "All I'm saying is that you aren't sure where you stand with her and that's dangerous since she doesn't know where she stands with you."

Casey's brows furrowed, "How the hell do you know that's what she thinks?"

"Casey," Paul said tenderly and took a step closer to her, "she left town. She took her son and left her husband and avoided you and Olivia like the plague… my guess is that whatever has happened, she's condemned herself in such away that you storming in and telling her she's wrong, isn't gonna help or motivate her to come back."

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He smelled so good. Elliot's cheek had been pressed against hers as he swayed gently with her in the corner of a small pub in the middle of the afternoon. At max, there were three other people in the pub with them, all occupied with whatever sport was being broadcasted on the television at that moment.

The beard of his cheek scraped against the soft skin of her face and caused her to smile as his fingertips dug gently into the small of her back, holding her as close as possible to himself. She'd noticed as he climbed into the truck on their way out that he'd been stiff, his knee had cracked and ground and his back seemed to bother him just as much yet here, in a pub they'd never stepped foot in before, he held her and swayed with her confidently, his lips pressing against her temple whenever he felt the need or desire to do so.

He felt her breasts mesh against his chest, felt the perfect round shape of her form through the fabric of her free flowing dress and he still couldn't understand her dissatisfaction with herself. He couldn't understand it because her hips were pulled tight into his body and he felt her abdomen brush against his with each breath she breathed in and the feeling was instant electricity throughout his body. And the only thing more sexy than that was feeling the exhalation of the same breath glide across his neck as her fingers hooked around the same column and held him close.

"You didn't have to do this," she murmured into his suit jacket.

"I told you," he said just as softly, "I wanted you to have at least one happy memory from the last few weeks."

"I've got memories, El. I do," she said and pulled back to smile sweetly at him. "You didn't have to get dressed-up for me."

He grinned and his large warm hand rested on the slope of her backside, "I suppose I could have done better than forcing you into this dress and then taking you to a pub huh?"

Her smile was small and full of understanding and warmth and all of the things she didn't think she was capable of at this precise moment, "I'm willing to bet you're changing the subject," she said softly and cupped his cheek with her hand.

He reached up with his own hand and covered the soft skin of her hand over his cheek, kissed her palm gently and lowered it between the two of them before he smiled and chuckled lightly, "And I'm willing to bet those memories are all of the kids… I want one of just you and me. Just us, Liv. I want it to be happy and in the front of your mind when you go in there this evening."

Her face darkened just slightly as the speakers announced another mild song that encouraged them to step even closer to one another so that they were joined from top to bottom, not an inch of space left. "I'm… I'm not going."

He ducked his head and pressed his lips against her, sipped so softly from her top lip that she'd surprised herself by getting closer to him, pressing her lips against his more solidly and because curiosity got the best of her, she opened her eyes as he kissed her and she instantly smiled against his mouth a small chuckle arising from nowhere.

"What?" he asked in mild shock, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she whispered sincerely, "Nothing at all. Thank you."

His brow arched, "You know? I love you with everything I've got," he smiled in mirth, "but man, you've got to be the most confusing woman right now."

She smiled at his teasing, was thankful he was teasing and here with her to do so. She was thankful that as much as she said she wasn't going to this session that she so badly needed, he wasn't moving a muscle from his stance. She was going no matter how much she said she wasn't.

And she was abundantly thankful.

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"You sound pooped," Sam chuckled as he leaned over Donovan's shoulder as he plugged in information for game two of their bowling session.

Donovan tried to stifle a yawn and failed miserably, "Nope, not at all, man."

"Yeah right," Sam laughed even more, "You sound like Dad when he has all of us for too long."

Donovan reached behind him and tugged at Sam playfully to get him around the seat and sitting next to him, "What? You think Chloe and I can't handle you guys?"

Sam grinned, "Just saying, you sound pooped and Abel is sleeping. You're lucky. Sometimes he cries for a long time."

Donovan pulled him playfully into him and kissed the crown of his head, "Want me to tell you what's going on right now?"

Sam smiled bashfully, his curiosity taking over, "Please," he nodded quietly.

"You know?" Donovan started, "It's okay to ask Chloe or I what's happening… you don't have to be shy or afraid about it."

Sam swallowed and pursed his lips, "I'm not afraid."

"Then… why do you never ask anyone what's happening?"

"That's not true," Sam said quietly.

"Yes… Sam I've noticed it and I just want you to know that it's okay to ask."

Sam took a slow and deep breath, "You won't laugh at me?"

Donovan furrowed his brows at Sam and caught Chloe, out of his peripheral, leading Solomon to the line to roll his ball down the ramp designed for kids. "Sam… why would I laugh at you?"

Sam squirmed in his seat and shrugged, "Don't know… the guys at school laugh at me sometimes, you know? Like, if I hear a bunch of people laughing and I ask what's happening… they just sort of laugh."

Enraged, Donovan bit the inside of his check, "Their bastards, Sam. You understand me? You don't need those pieces of crap, kids."

Sam's brows arched just slightly, "Um… if you get me an ice cream, I won't tell my mom you just said that."

Donovan smiled and pulled the boy back to him and a warm embrace, "I'll get you whatever you want… Chloe just helped Solomon push his second ball down the lane, it's running pretty slow, going a little to the right-no wait- it just bounced off the bumper and it's… ooh, he knocked down three pins."

Sam clutched Donovan's hand and anxiously asked, "What's his face look like? What's my brother's face look like?"

Donovan grinned, "He's a happy little dude, his mouth is wide open in a grin and he's looking up at Chloe and laughing."

"What's Hannah doing?" Sam asked eagerly, "What's she doing? Did she see it?"

Donovan shook his head, "No, she's asleep on the chairs drooling everywhere."

"What about Isaac and Matthew?"

"They're pulling on Chloe's shirt and begging her for their turn."

Sam grinned and then chuckled, "My mom… she would have liked to see this."

Donovan nodded, "I think your mom is getting some things settled."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I heard her and dad fighting… they think I don't hear things but they still haven't figured out that I hear most things… especially the things they don't want me to hear, like for instance they're thinking about my punishment being no allowance for a month, do you know what that's gonna do to my finances?"

Donovan arched his brow and grinned, "What else do you hear?"

Sam's teasing subsided and he exhaled, "Dad says mom has to beat things to heal up and be better… I think she's really scared."

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"Are you nervous?" Elliot asked casually as he passed a Styrofoam cup of coffee across the expanse of the truck to his wife.

She exhaled as she accepted the warm liquid and looked out the window of their parked truck at the seemingly typical New York building that housed only one office that Olivia would be concerned with, the one that would play host to women that Olivia shared a bond with… no matter how much she begged God otherwise.

"Liv-"

"What!" she snapped, her hand dropping against the arm rest of the door with more force than she was going for.

His brows arched and he turned to face the front, bowing his head and starring down at his cup of coffee. These mood swings were killing him. Maybe she was right, maybe he should have never gone snooping into her past. Maybe he should have…What? Let her be a woman who was hiding behind a shield? Let her be a woman who never grew? Who never knew life for what it really was? If he'd allowed that, allowed her to be stagnant then he could never really say that he loved her. If you love someone, aren't you supposed to help them become everything that they are supposed to be?

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her own head bowed and shaking in astonishment of her own behavior.

His brows furrowed and he nodded slowly, "I know," he muttered before taking a sip of the coffee and exhaling, his head stretching back and resting on the headrest. "I know."

She groaned in frustration and sloppily placed her coffee in the cup holder and threw her head back against her own head rest, "I don't want you to be angry with me, but… I don't think I even have the right to ask you that anymore."

He didn't have to look to find her hand with his hand, but as soon as his fingers touched hers, he gave her a tight squeeze, "I'm not upset, but… do you know what you're doing to me? Do you know… how much it hurts to be on the receiving end of something I didn't do to you?"

She cringed and turned her body to face him better, "I-I'm sorry. I…I don't know what to say to that. I don't… this isn't what I wanted for us."

The corner of his mouth turned up and he turned in his own seat to look at her, "What did you want for us?"

"What?" 

"You said you wanted something that wasn't this… what was it? What did you want for us?"

Her smile was small but her eyes were suddenly bright, "Honestly? Well, before you asked me to marry you… I don't know. I think I just thought… I thought we'd just be together. Not married, but just together."

He was immediately concerned. "You don't want to be married to me?"

"What?" her brows furrowed and she looked at him with confusion, "What? Are you kidding me?"

"You just-"

In a moment, it dawned on her how he'd taken it and she held his hand with both of hers, "I love you. I love being married to you. I love everything about us...I just never expected that I'd be good enough for you to want to marry me, and I never expected kids… but… I love that they both happened. I love being your wife and I love being a mom. I just…" her eyes lowered and she stopped talking.

"Just what?" he prodded softly.

She shrugged her shoulder slowly and shame flooded her features, "I just… I'm not very good at either of them."

"You've never felt sorry for yourself… why now?"

Her brows met her hairline and lowered in hot, sudden anger, "Oh. Fuck you, Elliot."

His hand slammed against the steering wheel of the truck and his neck bulged in anger as his face reddened, "STOP IT!" he shouted, "Just stop! You don't get to sit here and be someone you're not! This isn't you!" he yelled and slammed his hand on the steering wheel again, groaning as his damaged hand fired messages to his brain that it wouldn't handle his rage. "I asked you a simple question because I was worried about you and you snapped my head off! Are you kidding me? This isn't you! It's not us! STOP!" he hollered and when his eyes found hers they were hot with unshed tears. "Just stop," his voice cracked and he sniffed as he scrubbed his hand over his face.

"El-"

"I just wanted to know if you were nervous because you were picking at the hem of your shirt like you were gonna rip it apart… and instead you ripped me apart… I can't take this, Olivia."

She swallowed and bit her bottom lip, "If I tell you I'm sorry… does it hold water anymore?"

His smile was tight but there was a hint of laughter in his eyes, "You know it always does…I just… Olivia, if this is pay back for my behavior in the hospital… you win. I get it now I just… I can't sit by and watch you destroy yourself. You can't ask me to do that."

Several seconds of silence past between the two of them and she finally pulled herself together, "I'm not nervous that I have to do this," she whispered and her chin began to quiver as her face crumbled into devastation, "I'm ashamed."

He placed his own coffee into the holder next to hers and reached across to pull her close to him and when she resisted he held on tighter and pulled her harder until she was right next to him, his lips pressed against her temple, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, Olivia. Nothing," he assured her and kissed her hair, took in her scent and let silence take hold for just a moment longer.

She pressed into him, drawing from his strength. Truly, she was sorry for the mess that she'd become but she didn't know if she could go into this place and deal with her own demons. Finally. She didn't know if she could because she didn't know if she was strong enough and if she failed at this, she knew that eventually she would take a toll on her marriage and it would be lost.

"Why do you feel ashamed?" he whispered gently, "Would you have ever let a victim feel this way? I watched you for years Olivia and… you never let them believe that they should accept the shame… why should you?"

She wiped quickly under her eyes with her fingers and she sniffled, "I… I don't have anything to hide behind. I… Elliot, all those years as a cop… I was hiding. I was hiding from this…I was" she sniffled, "I was watching the victims heal and face their attackers and I thought that…I thought I could heal through them…I thought I was okay, but-"

"But you lost your job and fell apart?" he teased tenderly, "I'm not sure I buy that."

"Don't be that way, please?"

"I'm sorry," he nodded, "I think what I hear you saying though is that you tried to heal through someone else and… it didn't work."

She nodded in agreement and reached to her coffee, took a small sip and leaned into his embrace again, "I thought… I thought Vivian's would be good for me."

"It has been," he assured her. "It has been, I've seen you change and grow and… well, this is complex, Olivia… the emotions attached to everything are huge and… of course it was gonna get messy."

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He still felt the need to tease, only because this was entirely too heavy a subject matter to deal with without teasing, "The'ah door won't actually open without you turning the knob, Liv."

_Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck. You_! She scrubbed both hands over her face and took a deep breath, "I can't do this."

He was behind her immediately, blocking her from retreating and soothing her into reality with his voice, "You can do it, Liv. I'm right here. I'll be right here waiting for you."

She reached out and he felt his heart soar with pride as her hand touched the silver of the door knob that he knew would ultimately lead her into a fuller happiness that he could never give her and just as quickly as it had soared, it plummeted when her hand sharply withdrew and she shook her head, "I- I have to go to the gym and get the books done," she sputtered and turned to leave.

His hand closed around her tricep and she turned around to glare at him, "You let me go you sonovabitch!" she hissed.

His jaw flexed in anger of her biting remark but he held himself in check and loosened his grip, "I'm sorry, Liv-"

"You should b-"

"But," he cut her off with a small smirk as he opened the door with his hand, "you don't have a choice but to go and I don't have a choice but to make you," he said and tugged her close enough to give her a gentle push into the room.

Into the right direction.

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_Stop starring at me. Stop starring at me. Stop starring at me. STOP STARRING AT ME DAMNIT! _ Olivia stood frozen, Elliot behind the door that was behind her, and five women who had all looked up to see who'd walked into the room in front of her.

To stare at the woman who walked into the room. Her. She may vomit.

She wondered momentarily as she flexed her sweaty palms and at her sides what would happen if they asked her her name? Would she get as far as the first syllable and then vomit all over the pale blue shirt that Elliot had packed for her? Would it soak into the jeans that hung low on her lips, the jeans that were his favorite?

She inhaled and gave a short, tight smile before dipping her head quickly as a hello and finding the first available seat. _Why aren't you people saying anything_! _Why are you all just looking at me like that! Damnit! Say something! I'm gonna vomit!_ And then it hit her, _It must be written on my shirt. It must say that my brother raped me. That's why they're starring! I have to get this shirt off. Off. Off. Off._ She tugged frantically at hem and wondered if they would fifty-one-fifty her for suddenly stripping her shirt off and sitting down to talk about her rape and her feelings and all of the other shit her life has become in her lacey tan bra.

"Hi," a young blond finally smiled at her and as much as Olivia wanted to look at her and read her features and try to know the young woman's story, she couldn't bring herself to make eye-contact.

"H-Hi," Olivia managed.

"I'm Ashley," the young girl announced and Olivia couldn't get over the confidence that exuded from her voice. "And this," Ashley pointed to the fifty-ish woman to her left, "is Janice and that's Kat," she finished, with a nod to the last woman who seemed to be the epitome of business tycoon. Maybe Wall-Street.

Olivia nodded awkwardly and shifted in her seat, "I'm Shenice," a raspy voice cut in and Olivia couldn't help but think of sandpaper when she heard the woman's voice. In fact, it'd been so gravely that she couldn't help but finally lift her head to see a beautiful black woman with surprisingly soft green eyes and a perfect smile. She was obviously one of those women who could walk into a room and have every eye on the in a matter of a second.

Olivia had scanned her so quickly, so awkwardly as to not make eye contact that she almost missed the glaring scar that stretched from one side of the woman's neck to the other. The reason for her voice yet the woman made no effort to hide it.

"And this," Shenice's gravely and seemingly painful voice continued yet Olivia detected a hint of happiness in it as she pointed to the last woman in the bunch and smiled, "is our fearless leader, Deborah."

Deborah's smile was inviting but not so much that Olivia could manage to hold her head up. "It's good to have you here," Deborah said warmly, "Do you feel comfortable enough to share your name with us?"

Olivia's head snapped to attention at the request and she felt her stomach contract and before she knew it, she'd forced herself to swallow the vomit that suddenly announced itself in the back of her neck. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the women and all she could manage to do was whisper, "No."

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His coffee was ice cold now as he sat in the truck waiting for his wife to walk out of the building. He wondered what she would look like when she walked out. Would she have that look on her face that told him she'd just figured something out? Would she have that look of victory or would she be crushed even more so?

_I'm killing my wife_. He closed his eyes at the thought and he remembered the first time he saw her. He tried so hard to analyze that memory, to see if it was true, to see if she was hiding behind her badge and trying to heal through their victims.

He remembered how hard she projected herself to be. Remembered how determined she was to solve every case and fight for every victim. Realized, in the confines of his customized truck, that she was fighting for her own healing and the fact that she could never find it through solving cases had somehow warped her into a somewhat insane-super-cop.

He scrubbed his hand over her eyes, fighting tears, _I missed it_. A sob escaped his throat and he lowered his forehead to the steering wheel thumping it against the grip of the wheel, crying out loud.

"God help me," he sobbed, "I can't handle this anymore."

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and felt the blood drain from his hands as his knuckles turned white with the pressure and his damaged hand begged for release that he couldn't give. He yelled there in the privacy of his vehicle and he'd yelled so loud the sound of his voice had slammed ruthlessly back against his ear drums and for some reason this enraged him all the more. This combined with her mood swings, her fuck you's and her hot and cold touch-me-not attitude brought him to the edge and he exploded.

Yet, his explosion was not the typical explosion that comes from Elliot's fury, instead he exploded into sloppy hot tears as he sobbed uncontrollably and with such force that he found himself hugging his own body, his hand throbbing and swelling, his eyes burning. He'd been so wrapped up in himself, in his tears and snot and ache that he neglected to comprehend the loud tapping on his window.

He wished he would have at least attempted to wipe his face before looking up at the cause of the tapping, because when he did look up, he saw Olivia looking back at him.


	26. Healing

Silver Lining

Healing

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. _

The window tint was dark, but sure as shit, he'd been looking up at his wife, her features full of concern and compassion and love and all the things he should be exuding for her in this instant instead of sitting in his truck feeling sorry for his self while she was spilling her guts to perfect strangers.

_Double-Shit. How long has she been there? _

Elliot had been so caught off guard by his wife's sudden appearance that he'd immediately directed his attention to his wrist-watch wondering why exactly she was out so early and yet when he looked at the metallic face he was slightly shocked to see that she was in fact twenty-seven minutes late which meant she had stayed in her meeting longer than necessary.

While this struck a chord within him, he also knew he had snot dripping down his upper lip and tears stained his cheek. His eyes burned telling him they were probably red and swollen. She was twenty-seven minutes late which also meant he'd been what? Crying like a baby for at least forty-five?

He heard her light tapping on the driver's-side window again and he couldn't bare to look back up at her, instead he simply stared into his lap, a long sniffle before scrubbing one hand over his face and exhaling. Still staring even as she tapped once more.

Fear gripped him even more when he thought that it was very much possible that she hadn't participated in her therapy twenty-seven minutes longer than she needed to, but what if she'd been starring at him bawling his eyes out and snotting all over himself for those twenty-seven minutes?

_Triple-shit. _

He took another deep breath as he heard her fingertip lightly tap the window again and he had the full honest intention of looking up yet, as he inhaled all that he could, it wasn't air that he exhaled, it was another sob. A sob so loud he wondered if she heard it through the window.

No matter how much he tried to stop himself, no matter how much he tried to 'man-up' and stop crying, he couldn't. His wife had been raped. Violated long before he fell in love with her and he thought he could help her heal, he thought he could be her rock and her fortress and all the things that would keep her safe and sheltered.

Yet, suddenly, she'd been thrust unceremoniously out of his protection and into a no-man's land filled with pain and sorrow so deep that even if she survived its depth he wasn't so sure he could survive it. How long? How long would he have to stand by and witness the destruction of his wife? How long? He needed to know.

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_No. No. No. No. No. NO! _

Her husband was crying. He was parked in his truck as traffic passed him by and he was sobbing as if they'd lost Isaac all over again. Yet she knew Isaac was in the safe company of good friends and the real reason why her husband was in such distress was simple.

She was a lunatic.

She'd been slowly walking down the steps of the building that Olivia knew would be her personal torment indefinitely, until she finally beat this thing that had rooted so deeply into her soul, she'd been walking slowly and wondering what types of questions he would ask her or if he would give her time to mull the session over in her mind; she'd been wondering that when she saw him thumping his forehead against the steering wheel of the truck through the window.

She didn't know what to think of it and so she'd stopped on the second to last step and watched for several seconds until she realized he was sobbing. She'd immediately made her way to the vehicle and when she heard his labored crying, his sobbing and pure pain from outside of the truck, she made her way to his side of the vehicle, and rested her palm on the darkened window and she watched, unable to help. Unable to sooth.

The thought that she'd done this pounded in her brain. She'd reduced this great man to this. She'd been so hot and cold, so hit and miss, on and off that she'd finally broken him into pieces she's not sure she could ever piece back together.

She'd called his name only to discover that he was so distraught that her voice didn't resonate and as the traffic passed her body at unsettling speeds and the cool air made her shiver slightly, she tapped on the window once more and when he looked up at her she felt her entire being die.

She'd done this to him. She'd wanted only to bring him happiness and things far beyond satisfaction and yet she'd brought him tears. She'd gifted him with unrelenting sobs and painful experiences and when he made no motion to grant her access to him she wondered if she'd finally been too much for him and having access to him would be something she'd never again have.

She watched him stare down in his lap and she didn't know what to do.

_Open the door, baby. Please. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you. Please. Please. Please. Roll the window down. Do something. _

She watched him suddenly sob all over again after it was obvious he was trying to pull himself together and yet he failed miserably in her presence.

She rested her hand back on the glass again and her own voice cracked as tears surfaced, "Elliot… open the door. Please?"

She sobbed harder and rested her forehead against the cool window, closing her eyes and willing his pain from him. She'd take it from him, she'd take it from him and she'd live with both of their pain, she'd let it destroy her from the inside out and eat her alive just so he'd never know the pain he felt right now.

The pain that she caused.

"Please," she bit her bottom lip and her chin quivered until she began to weep. "Please," she begged in a sandpaper whisper, "Open the door, El."

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He's aware, even though he himself is crying that she is pleading with him to open the door. He is aware that with shaved handles she doesn't stand a chance of getting in the truck and yet he can't pull himself together to pop the doors.

Until her voice breaks in a plea for him to do so and before he knows it he's pushed the button, the cool air has invaded him and her hand has cupped his cheek, turning him gently to face her.

He's not sure which one of them looked worse, but he is sure that he can smell her scent, he can seen her olive skin and her brown eyes. He can see the pain that rests in them, the pain that for some reason, no matter how much they try, no matter how whole she feels at certain points in her life; it's that pain that always resurfaces.

It's the pain of rape. The torment of life after rape. It's finally dawned on him that all of the sadness and profound sorrow that rested within her eyes was not actually a direct result from her mother's inability to love and nurture her. No, the pain that has made its self present in her eyes, her soul and their bed was a result of her brother's trespass against her.

He's just realized that the type of woman Olivia is, the strength that she had, was enough to defend her soul against her mother's abusive hand and drunken rages but that same amazing strength that resides in her-that is currently hidden-never stood a chance against rape. Never.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered and sniffled as she grazed his wet cheek with her thumb, "Elliot. I'm so sorry this is happening."

His sob was heard over the traffic, over the crying baby in the stroller on the side walk and over the two cabbies yelling at one another. His sob was heard over her own even as he reached out for her and pulled her close to him.

She'd ducked her head to avoid the frame of the vehicle and Elliot ducked his own, sobbing relentlessly against her chest, his hands fisting tight wads of material from the back of her shirt. Her lips rested lightly against his hair as she held him, her body's position awkward and painful yet he'd never once been this vulnerable to her and she didn't dare shift for her own comfort.

Not when he's lived in misery forsaking his own comfort for hers.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered again and kissed him tenderly as his grip tightened around her body, "I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do to take it away, but I can fix it. I can. I can fix it right now. I promise," she assured him softly. "I'm gonna fix myself, Elliot. I'm gonna come here every week and I'm gonna war through it. I'm gonna fix it."

He held her just as tight but he'd quieted when she began to speak and he'd listened with what little focus and strength he had left and her voice was genuine he could tell but… it's been genuine before. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and as if it weren't far enough, he moved across the bench seat of the truck and stared outside at nothing as more warm tears followed.

His sudden absence was almost easily chalked up to embarrassment by being caught crying but it instantly occurred to her that she was wrong, that he was in fact, upset with her. She took a deep breath and slid slowly into the truck, closing the door gently as if afraid to ignite further anger or disappointment within her husband with a loud noise.

"El-"

"Stop," he shook his head and sniffled as he scrubbed his hands over his face and exhaled, trying with everything he had to stop the pathetic crying. The breaking and the shattering. "Please. Stop."

She furrowed her brows in confusion. He'd been so supportive only an hour and a half ago. He'd encouraged her to go to this meeting, drove her here and waiting patiently for her to return. What she didn't understand was his sudden change in demeanor. What had happened to him in the last ninety minutes to cause such as drastic change?

She stared down in her lap and picked at her fingernails her voice just as fragile and broken as her husband was, "Why are you upset with me? I thought you would be happy."

He swallowed a sob and rubbed his watery eyes, "I am happy, Olivia… I just…" he exhaled and leaned back against the seat.

She slid closer to him across the bench seat and timidly placed her hand on his thigh, "Elliot, look at me. Please?"

He sniffled again and to her surprise he slowly turned to look at her without the help of her hand to turn his face to her. He didn't say a word but tenderly rested his forehead against hers, his eyes slipped closed and he exhaled and remained silent.

Her hand rested against his beard and her thumb grazed gently over the moisture of his cheek as she pushed him gently away to look at him, "What is it?" she said softly, "What?"

He pulled away completely again and covered his face again, another sniffle as he lowered his hands and stared out the front window, "You've said that before," he whispered in a voice layered in pain, "You've said you'd fix this and… I just," he exhaled and sobbed back into his hands again, "I just need to know," he choked out, "that you're gonna stick with this," he cried and was still unable to look at her. "I need to know that your not gonna keep me out of your healing like you do at Vivian's."

"Elliot-"

He turned to look at her and the white of his eyes were bright red, his face puffy and wet with his crying, "Don't you see that you're killing me?

She'd not been expecting this. This break down from her husband, this admission of him dying. "El-"

"I just," he wiped at his nose quickly and shook his head, "I need to know that this is it, Olivia. I need to know that you're serious about your healing. That you're not gonna go today and then never again…" he begin to cry again at the sudden thought that if she did decide to never attend the meeting, their marriage would be a constant mess of emotional roller coasters. He'd stay with her, he knew he would, but he also knew that he felt physical pain when she had these break downs and he's pretty sure that he'll literally die one day from that pain.

She moved impossibly close to him and hooked one hand around his neck, the other wrapping around his chest and her sob surprised her as she held tightly around him, "I want more for us, El. I do. I want to get better," she sniffled and her voice leveled off, although it was still labored, "I don't know why this is coming up so late, El. I don't know why its effecting me still but… I want better for us. For our kids and… I want better for me."

He unclasped her hands from his neck and pulled back to look at her and there was something on his face that surprised her.

A tender smile.

He cupped her cheek and gently grazed her forehead with his lips, "That's the first time you've ever said you want something better for yourself," he whispered against her. "You have no idea how sexy that makes you right now. You have no idea how much I'd like to kiss you righ-"

She pulled him back suddenly, just enough to fit her lips over his and kiss him almost fervently until he managed to take control leaning into her, his hands embracing her and leading her to lye on the soft bench seat of the truck. "Wait-" she whispered franticly, "Wait, I-"

He hovered over her, a look of confusion and rejection on his face. She'd kissed him, she kissed him with an urgency and confidence that surprised him but just as fast as she'd kissed him, she was laying under him in the confines of a vehicle she loves to make love in, and she was pushing him away.

_Stabler! You idiot! She just came out of a rape counseling session and here you are trying to get her under you. Bastard! _

"I'm sorry," he said tenderly, "I'm sorry. I should-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put pressure on you, or-"

She smiled up at him and raised her leg to rest at the side of his body, effectively encouraging him to stay exactly where he was, "Stay. Stay, I just… I want to give you more. I want to give you something more."

He furrowed his brows and leaned on his forearm to run his free hand through her short hair, "You don't have to give me anything, Liv. I'll wait. I'll wait for you, I just," he smirked shyly, "I'm sorry. You are just insanely sexy and I can't help myself."

She raised her head and kissed him softly, sipping and nipping wherever she wanted to. He moaned against her as her hand suddenly wedged slowly between their bodies, "Liv."

"Shh," she smiled and kissed him again, and while he fully expected to feel her hand on his throbbing body, he was surprised to feel the back of her hand near his hip. Her hand was digging, searching, feeling and he was so intrigued by what was happening or lack thereof that he broke from her lips and ducked his neck to look between them. Her hand, nowhere near the front of his, but deep within her pocket and slowly pulling something out.

He watched as she produced a white business card between her index and middle finger and held it between them as an offering. "You want more from me. A promise that I won't come here once and then never again. You want that. You deserve that and I want to give it to you."

He furrowed his brows, took the card that she offered and sat back, "What's this?" he asked in curiosity.

She sat up in the truck and she didn't care that a woman was nudging her male partner to look inside of their truck from the sidewalk. She didn't care because right now, Elliot was looking as confused as ever. She smiled softly, "It's an appointment card… I-I booked a few more sessions with the group. It'll get me through the month and then… I think maybe… maybe I'll book some more."

He looked up at her and his smile was accompanied by tears and the pure hope on his face. "Liv-"

She returned an equally gentle smile and to his surprise slowly pulled him to her by his shirt and laid back with him on top of her, her hand about his face, "I want something better for me, Elliot. I'm… I'm ready now."

Elliot grinned and attacked her mouth with his own. His kiss was eager and ecstatic and bruising and she was fully and happily accepting. Yes, they would have a conversation later about her session, but now… now he wanted her and while he momentarily felt it would be wrong considering the context of this encounter, that was quickly erased when he heard the buckle of his belt open. His zipper drop.

Felt her slender, perfect fingers wrap around him.

He broke from her mouth and panted, eyes closed. He was about to say something when she stroked him perfectly and he was so confused. He wanted to ask her if she was sure she wanted to do this right now, so soon after her meeting. He wanted to ask her if the meeting was the cause of her becoming a sudden seductress. He wanted to ask her so many things but her hand was too perfect and he's wanted her to want him, to touch him and accept him like this for too long.

He's wanted her to come freely under him, he's wanted her to cry out his name without abandon, he's wanted her to beg him to make love to her. He's wanted to reconnect with her like they've done so many times before she melted down on him. He's wanted her. Wanted. Craved. Desired. Her.

One more stroke and he would come in his dress pants and she would tease him mercilessly.

"Come, El," she whispered to him, "I want you to come," she said and swiped her thumb over the head of his penis.

He twitched in her hand and she smirked because she knew him too well, "Come," she told him again as she rose up just slightly, licked at his mouth, and stroked him faster.

His mind was yelling at him that this was so entirely wrong. That no woman would want this after coming from a rape crisis group, but it felt so good to be handled by her. To be told by her to come as she held him in her grasp. The warmth of her hand, the scent of her shampoo. "Liv!" he ground and slammed his eyes tightly shut, his teeth barring as his hips instantly thrust into her hand, "Liv! Please, don't make me do this."

"Come," she repeated and let her thumb play over the tip of his body, his pre-cum providing just enough lubricant to make it all the more enjoyable and confusing. "Come, Elliot. It's okay. Enjoy it," she whispered and pulled his head down to her, kissing him and tracing his lips with her tongue. "Come," she encouraged again.

He supported his weight on his hands as her hand continued to stroke him and he didn't know what to do. To deny her this would hurt her feelings, cause her to think he didn't want her, and to enjoy this could mean she would see him as a selfish prick more concerned for his sexual satisfaction than her healing.

He opened his eyes, and slammed them shut again because looking down at her caused a surge in his length that he thought might undo him immediately. "Olivia," he whined. Literally whined, "Please. I don't know what you want."

She chuckled and damnit that chuckle was so low and so sexy his hand immediately covered hers as she stroked him, "Please," he grated.

"Look at me," she whispered and vaguely heard a man yelling at a meter-maid for what he claimed was a ridiculous ticket. "Look at me, or I'll make you come in my hand right now," she warned and stroked him so perfectly his eyes burst open to stare at her.

She ran her hand along his hairline, noticed he was perspiring yet it was chilly in the truck, "Its okay. Don't worry about me. I want you to come. I want you to enjoy it."

"Liv-"

She contracted her abs, raised up and rested her lips at his ear, her leg moving to widen the cradle of her hips as her other hand instantly dove into his slacks to accompany her already working hand, "I have your dick in my hands, Elliot…"

He whimpered at her sudden choice of words so unlike her. Maybe he should be seeing red flags but he's seeing only pure bliss and he thinks maybe he deserves this. As much as he wants to stop her, he wants to be pleasured by her too.

She massaged his sac with one hand, stoked with the other and sucked on the lobe of his ear as his hips gave way to the desire and rubbed against her, "There you go," she encouraged, "Let go Elliot. Let go."

He gritted his teeth, shook his head in pain because that's what this was turning into. A painful need to come and the painful realization that doing so could have consequences he couldn't bare. "I can't," he groaned and tried to sit up only to find that her grip on his penis was secure and she wasn't letting go.

She pulled him back to her, the meter-maid and man still arguing as she cupped the back of Elliot's skull still stroking with the other, "I'm fine, Elliot. You can. I want you to."

"Liv-" he attempt to protest again when he felt her bite at the line of his jaw.

"Damn you," she chuckled in his ear, "I've got your dick in my hand, and I'm soaking wet right now, so you either fuck me in this truck with everyone around to hear me, or you come like I want you to."

He ducked his head, attached his lips to her neck and felt her perfect hold slip down his shaft, move back up, take a teasing swipe around his tip only to return to his base and pull back up.

He yelled against her neck as his hips slammed into her hand and he came in violent shudders, his mouth securely fastened against her skin as he yelled out. Soon, his hips had settled but his audible convulsions had not and it occurred to her that her husband was crying against her.

"Shhh," she soothed. "Shhh, it's okay."

He stayed there, over her, sweating and satiated and confused and worried that she was gonna kill him or break down when they got home. He held tight to her, didn't lift his head even as he withdrew her hand from his pants feeling her hesitate before wiping along the fabric of his boxers and holding him over her. She'd just wanted him to have something good today. Something that felt good.

He continued to cry and she was immediately worried that she'd gone too far. That she'd taken from him instead of given to him. "It's okay, Elliot," she assured him again. "I wanted you to feel something good."

His hips pressed into her again and she smiled against his head, his face still buried against her neck, "I even talked dirty," she teased softly and stilled when his head jerked up and his face hovered inches over hers. She smiled, hoping to calm his confusion, she nodded in assurance, "It felt good to do it, Elliot. It did… I'm okay. I wanted to do it… Are you okay?" she asked timidly.

He rested his forehead against hers, "Promise me… Promise me you won't be mad at me for this."

She smiled sadly that she'd placed him in this predicament of not being able to accept her touch without thinking of the consequences, yet she understood her timing sucked today. "The only thing that will upset me, is if you decide to not walk with me through all of this."

He looked at her again and the hope resurfaced immediately, "You… you're gonna let me in? All the way? Not just when you want?"

She held his face in her hand, kissed him delicately, "All the way. I promise you. Whatever you want to know or talk about and even when I don't want to talk. I'll let you in. You have my word. No more pushing you away, no more trying to do it alone or hoping it'll pass. All the way, I promise."

His grin was beautiful as she wiped at his wet cheek, "I love you, Olivia."

"And I love you, Elliot," she whispered and let a mischievous grin unfold.

"What?" he smirked at her and lightly kissed her mouth, "What are you thinking about?"

She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him, her hips raising up to meet his, "You know I hate this truck? That I only like it for one thing?"

He blushed, felt the impossible stirring of his crotch again, "Liv-"

"Right here, Elliot," she insisted.

He nodded imperceptibly and sat up, his hand instantly at her buckle, caution thrown out the window as he unbuckled her button and was just about to unzip her pants and shove them to her thighs so he could have his mouth on her, when her hands immediately covered his. Fear and complete shock inscribed on her face.

"What? What is it?" he asked in concern.

"What was that? Did you hear that?" she whispered and he was just about to ask what she was talking about when he heard the same undeniable sound.

The tapping of an officer issued flashlight against a window.

Elliot's stomach churned and he immediately refastened his wife's clothes, unwilling to let her be seen by anyone other than him. The tapping continued, this time accompanied by a voice, "Just 'cause your windows are tinted doesn't mean I don't see the truck move! Open up!"

Olivia covered her face, "Oh. No. Elliot, we're gonna go to jail."

He snickered, "And you're a repeat offender."

She smacked at his arm, "Let me up!"

He laughed and zipped his own pants, as she slid in behind the steering wheel, and turned the key to roll down the window, "Hello," Olivia smiled, "can I help-"

"Save it, lady," The young meter maid exhaled, "you're parked illegally, either move this tin can or I'll cite you and I swear if you give me one damn problem about it, I'll have you arrested for having sex in public-"

Elliot arched his brow and leaned over to see the young girl, "Technically, we weren't having sex."

"Right," the woman rolled her eyes, "the truck just naturally does that. Look I could give a rats ass what you were doing, move the truck or be cited."

Elliot licked his lips, "You know, you sure are-"

"We'll, move the truck," Olivia smiled, cutting her husband off, "sorry to occupy your time, miss," she said and immediately started the truck.

"Just move it," the meter maid groaned and moved along in her misery as Olivia pulled the truck out into traffic stopping at the first red light only yards away. Both she and Elliot stared forward, until Olivia couldn't resist the smile. She bowed her head and tried to cover her face before she laughed aloud and it felt so good to laugh. The only thing that felt better was when Elliot could no longer hold in his own hysteria and they both erupted into loud laughter that filled the truck and rested gently back into their hearts.

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"Daddy?" Thomas asked sleepily as his mother rocked him gently in the hotel.

"I'm sorry, baby. Daddy, isn't here," she reminded him sadly and buried her nose in his soft hair. "I'm sorry, he's not here with us, Thomas."

"I wants him," he whined, "I miss my daddy and I wan's him."

"I know," Alex whispered, "I want him too."

"You calls my daddy? He go vroom vroom and gets us?" he asked and she didn't miss the hope in his voice.

"We can't call, Daddy, Thomas, I'm sorry."

His belly began to shake against hers as he heaved in air and began to cry again, "That not fair."

Alex closed her eyes against his crying and sobbing and held him tightly against her, hoping and praying that he would settle in sooner or later and right now, she definitely wanted sooner. "I'm sorry baby. I am."

"Then you gonna makes it bedder?" he sobbed, "Pweaze? I wants my daddy. I wants him now!" he screeched and pulled back as she held him in her lap. He pounded on her chest with his tiny angry fists and his face turned bright red as he screeched.

"Thomas!" Alex said firmly and grabbed his fists, held them at her chest. "Stop. Now!"

Thomas cried as his mother held him, "I hates you!"

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Their walk along Central Park had been slow and deliberate. They wanted-no they needed- to just be with one another, to exist side-by-side separate but fused as one. They needed to get back into sync like they were before Abel unknowingly pulled the carpet out from under them. Before his seventy-some-odd day existence collided with theirs.

It had felt good, so good and so pure to walk hand-and-hand with her husband, to feel the rough skin of his palm against her smooth slender hand, and it had been a simple pure pleasure to feel his hand wrap around her back and rest on her hip pulling her close to him as they walked.

She covered his hand with her own, feeling his wedding ring and allowing the tip of her finger to trace its cool metal. His face had been total bliss when she'd slipped it over his finger, her own hand shaking as she declared him her husband for better or for worse. She considers herself now, considers how she's slowly eroded his confidence.

He had been the most cocky, arrogant and confident man she'd ever met and when he married her. He'd stood there on the beach, the epitome of certain and she has slowly chipped away at that. She hasn't meant to. As God as her witness, that had never ever been a part of her plan. Her plan was simple.

Love him with everything she had.

She felt his hand grip her waist in a tender squeeze, "What are you thinking about?" he asked softly as his lips buried themselves in her short hair.

She doesn't miss a beat, "That I love you. That I love you with everything I have," she said and her voice was so small he had to stop to hear her.

He watched her carefully, watched how the setting sun softened her eyes, made her look ten years younger despite the fact that she looked like she was struggling to get her words out. He cupped her cheek softly, "Liv-"

"But.." she shook her head, raising her hand to his and holding it against her cheek. "I've… I've been. Selfish by not trying to get better by not… taking care of myself. I've been selfish and…" why was this so hard? She's asked him this before and he's freely given it. Why is she struggling with this? Why does she feel the need to rehash this conversation again? To tell him what a selfish person she is?

She knows why. She figured it out in the first thirty minutes of her session as she listened to one of the women describe how she almost lost her marriage to emotions and feelings she couldn't handle. She needs to know that he absolutely understands that she finally realizes where she stands in life. Where she needs to go from here. She needs him to understand that she is truly, overpoweringly sorry.

"Sit with me?" he asked and his voice was careful. It lacked the confidence that it's always had when it came to her. It sounded more like he honestly didn't know if she would or if he'd have to fight her on the simple things now as well.

Before she responded, he'd separated his hand from her body and she was immediately cold. The New York air had suddenly become vicious as the cold bit at her and reminded her that without him, she's not capable of making it.

Within moments, he'd been the perfect gentleman that he was and wiped debris and a discarded newspaper from the bench. He sat there, leaned forward with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs as he peered up at her, a small smile on his face, "I'd really like it if you sat with me, baby."

_Baby_. She loved that and the sound of it produced a ridiculous grin but before she could do anything else she was immediately next to him and instantly, he was fighting off the cold that stalked her. His arm slipped around her and she pulled back slightly.

He was immediately alarmed and she sensed this. She placed her hand on his shoulder, gently let it slide up over the curve of his thick neck until she was cupping his bearded cheek, "Elliot… I need you to forgive me."

He smiled and instantly began to tell her she didn't need to be forgiven but clearly he didn't understand her trespass.

"Don't do that." Her voice was firm, "Don't do that. Don't tell me that…. I _do_ need you to forgive me, Elliot. I do. I didn't know it until today, until the group, but… I realized something tonight and… I just," she licked her lips and stared into his confused eyes, "I need to know that one day…," she raised one shoulder in a lazy shrug, "that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me for… for marrying you-"

"What!" He pulled back immediately as if she were on fire and her hand just burned him. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed an artist sketching on the bench across from them only he'd stopped sketching and was now staring straight at them. She didn't care, because at that moment she was listening to Elliot freak out.

"You always do this!" he hissed. "Things get a little… a little… a little messed up and you regret marring me!" He'd moved to stand to his feet, to really yell at her this time and let her have exactly what has been on his mind only without his filter of love and compassion and understanding. No, really what he'd like to do is grab her by her shoulders and yell at her and shake her and yell at her some more until she finally understands that she can be loved. Damn her!

But, he can't do any of that because her hand has grabbed his wrist and it's her turn now to look up at him, "Please? Please let me finish. Sit here with me and let me finish."

His reluctance showed.

"Please?" she asked again and pulled gently at his wrist until he was next to her again, albeit stiff and angry and hurt and while she needs warmth, she doesn't enjoy the searing heat that his rolling off of him in waves right now because she knows he's pissed.

His head shook slowly, absently as if he were checking out for the duration of the conversation, "I can't-" he started and his voice broke. "I can't keep… hearing how much you regret me, Olivia."

"_Regret_ you?" She was shocked. Regret? No. Not even a little. Her hands were instantly on his face and she stared at him, "I. Do not. Regret. You." She told him firmly. "I don't…You didn't let me finish-"

"Not much you can say to fix what you've already said, Liv. You were sorry for marrying me-"

"No!" she told him more adamantly. "No! Don't put words in my mouth, Elliot. Listen to me, please!"

His posture relaxed mildly and she took that. Her voice softened, "I don't regret marrying you Elliot… I regret… I regret the _way_ I married you."

His brows furrowed, "You didn't like the wedding?"

She smiled at his cluelessness, "The wedding was beautiful… both times."

He took a deep breath and his eyes started to mist more and more. He took another breath trying to keep the tears at bay, "You're keeping me in the dark so much and I don't know what your talking about anymore. We're miles apart and I hate that feeling Olivia. I hate it."

"Elliot… I regret that I married you a broken person… _not that I married you_."

He relaxes even further as she gives more information to him. Information that he has probably sought their entire marriage but that she couldn't figure out until hours ago. She does realize however; that she has his attention and if she bails on him right now, if she so much as stalls at answering one of his questions, she'll do irreparable damage to their marriage. To him.

"El… when you and I started dating… I wasn't normal. I was so broken and hiding and using my job to live-"

"Mayb-" his words were quickly muffled by her palm.

"Please?" she asked again, her voice weighted with worry and distress, "Please… just hear me?"

His body softened as she lowered her hand and he pulled her closer to him, "Go on."

"You'd… It's gonna sound bad when I say this but you've got to promise me that you wont take it that way. That you'll just hear me?"

He swallowed. This didn't sound good at all. "I'll take it the way you want me to." And he hoped like crazy that he could.

"You found out about the rape-"

"Because I snooped." It was a self-condemning statement.

Her brows furrowed and she shook her head, "Elliot, it doesn't matter how you found out, just that you did and… it… it totally voided everything that I made for myself. I wasn't this cop that was fearless… I was suddenly depending on you to keep me sane and… I just… suddenly, instead of facing it head on I suppressed it all. I buried it so deep inside of me and tried to be honorable and tried to be… I tried to be a woman that you'd want to love. That you'd still respect. I still tried to be…Benson," she said and raised her shoulders again in shyness and a tint of shame.

He smirked because really she was like a cat chasing her own tail sometimes. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "But I still loved you after I knew and I still love you now… You're Stabler now… You don't need to fight to be Benson."

She bit her bottom lip and he could see there was still more she was contemplating, "Elliot… we got married and I was happy. I was. I was so happy that I thought… I thought that eventually the happiness would outweigh everything else, and then I got pregnant and then Issac was kidnapped and then…. Elliot it was one thing after another and I just… sometimes I feel like… like I've never even processed the first round, that maybe if I had… maybe If I'd worked on myself _and then_ married you-if I'd married you as a whole woman, then this wouldn't be surfacing and… and you wouldn't be hurting."

He closed his eyes and he couldn't help the fact that a tear fell. His voice came out like sandpaper, scratchy and painful and labored, "It hurts to see you… to see you in pain, like this."

She wiped his tear gently, "That's what I regret Elliot… I tried to be superwoman and in the end… I hurt you… I tried to get by instead of trying to find my footing and… I see it destroy you and that's what I regret. I don't regret marring you Elliot. I don't. I just wish I'd worked on myself first so that this didn't resurface in our marriage-"

He started to tell her that it most likely would, that it was inevitable just because, but she quickly talked over him, "It probably would have, Elliot… but it wouldn't have been like this and somewhere in your heart you know that. Somewhere in there you know I'm right…don't you?"

He doesn't want to agree because, well-what did that say about him? Did he pressure her to marry him? Did he jump the gun, put her in a rough spot when she was simply too vulnerable to make a sound decision? Maybe he should be the one apologizing to her. "Liv-"

"Don't you dare think that you pressured me either, do you understand?" she said with the tiniest hint of a smirk, "You didn't. I wanted to marry you Elliot and maybe… maybe…I don't know, maybe I thought if you'd of seen me falling apart like I am now, if you saw me struggling to figure out who I was and what was happening… that maybe you wouldn't want me."

He bowed his head and she hated that she couldn't see his face while he was thinking, that she couldn't know what he was thinking just by looking at his face. "I need to know that you forgive me for not taking care of myself first," she whispered and placed her hand on his thigh, "I'm gonna get better now, Elliot. I am."

He couldn't stand it anymore and he broke and his voice shattered and he was back to square one in the truck with her, "You've said that so many times," he cried, too ashamed to raise his head, "I want to believe you… I do, but I can't. I can't believe you…I _don't_ believe you."

She hooked her hand around his neck and rest her forehead against his, "I made appointments, Elliot. I'm going. I'm going and… I… the women there seem nice."

His hand wrapped around her waist and he cried harder unconcerned with onlookers who walked by. Really, who were hey kidding, this was New York City and no one really cared about two people crying in the park. "How do I know you won't cancel them?" he said when he'd caught his breath.

She had to smile, "You want me to sign a contract with you?" she teased and he finally looked up to see her lips in the slightest curve of a smile.

"This isn't funny!" he hissed.

She sobered instantly, "I know but-" she took a deep breath and stood, instantly retreating to the other side of the path.

Elliot leaned over and covered his red and swollen face with his hands. Just like her to leave when things turned rough. He was about to stand and yell at her from his position, he was about to tell her that he'd had enough and she could do whatever the hell she wanted just so long as it didn't include him, when he watched her exchange cash with the sketcher on the bench for his pencil and a piece of paper.

She'd returned to sitting quickly and writing on the paper frantically, "I know this isn't funny. I know that Elliot," she said as she scribbled as fast as possible, concerned that he was beginning to loose his patience with her.

"What are you writing?" he asked, irritation coating his words no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

She stayed silent as her hand moved faster than he'd seen from her and then she was suddenly done and her pencil was down. She exhaled like she'd just finished a college entrance exam and she's not so sure she did well. "Here," she said and unceremoniously held the paper between them, "Take it."

He furrowed his brows and slowly took the sheet of sketch paper into his own, "What is it?" he asked and she remained silent, allowing him to read it for himself.

She watched his blue eyes move slowly from side to side as he read the sloppy cursive that she'd written. But beyond the sloppy handwriting and frantic words there was something far more important and simple.

She gave a short nod, "It's… it's in writing now, so… well I signed it."

He looked up at her and his eyes were puffy and swollen and he just wanted to be there with her. To simply exist with her, "You signed it," he agreed. "It's in writing… you can't go back on this…it'll kill me if you do, Liv."

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His hands were warm against her stomach and she wanted desperately to make love to him. She didn't care that she probably wouldn't come, she just wanted to connect with him, but she also knew that she'd been sending him too many confusing signals and so tonight, after they'd put their very exhausted children to sleep, they slipped into their bed and into one another's arms and they held on tight like they were in a storm and they both knew that on some level, they were. Or maybe, maybe they'd just gotten out of the storm and they were still holding on out of reflex. Maybe, maybe today marked a new beginning for them. One of healing and hope and forward movement. Maybe in the storm this was a silver lining just as Abel was starting to be.

"The boys were toast," Elliot said softly.

She smiled against his chest, "Bowling wore them out and Hannah was just as tired."

Silence fills the room once again and he finds it almost humorous that he's lying next to his wife with the beginnings of an erection and if he's reading her right, she's craving him but neither one of them are taking the bait because they've just been through emotional hell and back and neither one of them could probably make it through the act of making love right now.

"Olivia?"

She kissed his naked chest softly, "Yeah?"

"I love you," he tells her quietly.

She looks up at him and her lips are so light against his that he pulls her closer, hoping to feel more of her lips and instead feels his erection graze her hip. Neither of them give into the sensation and instead focus on just being there with one another. "I'm gonna get better," she assures him again with more determination seeping into her voice by the moment.

He brushes his lips against hers just as lightly as she did moments before and whispers, "I believe you."

She wondered momentarily if he's saying that to convince himself but she's choosing to believe otherwise. The day has been rough but she's safe now. She knows he'll have questions tomorrow, she knows she'll have a busy house tomorrow but what she knows is that today she has made a promise to him to at least try. She let her eyes close slowly as he pulled her closer to his body.

She can feel his erection against her, she can hear his heart beating in her ear and she can smell his cologne as he holds her. He stroked her hair gently for long moments as his steady breathing lulled her into sleep, and just before she surrendered to her exhaustion she vaguely feels his lips against her hair as his hand skims the skin of her abdomen, "I forgive you, Olivia."

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She'd jerked awake, not from a nightmare or sensing the absence of her husband but from hearing the tender fussing of Abel from just beyond their bed. Elliot stirred and began to sit up to tend to him and she gently placed her hand on his shoulder as she kneeled on the bed. "Lemme get him," she said softly, kissing his neck and gently leaning him back to his pillow.

"He's hungry," Elliot murmured and snuggled into his pillow, "want me to fix his bottle?" he said groggily and rolled to his side.

She smiled and bit her bottom lip as she stood up and peered over the crib, "No, no it's okay. Get some sleep, El," she whispered and gently picked Abel up, pulling him close to her body and walking out of the room to calm him.

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The house felt right. It did and the only thing alarming about that was that if it felt right, right now then somewhere along the way… it must have been wrong. He can hear his son crying and his wife cooing him as she changed his diaper in the other room. He can hear this and it caused him to smile into his pillow because somehow… somehow it was just right.

But how long had it been wrong, then?

He finally opens his eyes in the moonlit room and he thinks back to when he himself was a child in this house. Was it right then? He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly against his pillow. No. No it wasn't right then, either. So when was it right? When did his house feel right? When did it feel this welcoming and beautiful? He thought back to the first time Olivia lay under his thrusting body and he smiled but even then, it wasn't right. It was amazing and safe and something he'll always remember, but it wasn't what he was feeling right now.

He rolled to his back, his son still fussing with his wife in the other room and he simply listened to her voice. As much as she was afraid of Abel, her voice was confident as she cooed him and sang to him and this caused Elliot to grin because maybe his wife was part of the equation to make his house feel right. Maybe.

Maybe she'd finally found her footing and that's what has set everything into perfection. He takes this into consideration and rolled to his side, reaching into his nightstand and taking his journal out. He turned on the light and opened it to the folded piece of paper that his wife had given him only hours ago.

He'd been surprised when she handed it to him but, it was the most amazing declaration she'd made.

_Elliot, this is my contract to you: _

_I promise to attend all of my sessions and will not cancel without discussing it with you first. _

_I promise to answer questions you may ask even if I don't want to answer them._

_I promise to always move forward no matter how much it hurts and I promise to fight like hell all the way. _

_Olivia Stabler._

His feet hit the floor in one swift motion and he padded through the hall, stopping at his daughter's room to see Olivia standing over the changing table smiling down at Abel as she placed a different set of pajama's on him. His diaper must not of held up. Elliot smiled again and retreated back down the hall to the kitchen.

Frankie has already brought in tools and placed down protective plastic in their foyer. They'd been shocked when they came home to see that their entry-way closet lost a fight to a sledge hammer and is no longer present. Elliot negotiated the cool plastic against his feet and within a few short moments had Abel's formula out of the cabinet, his son's cry still heard by him.

As he mixed his son's bottle he smiled again and he couldn't help it because, damnit his house _feels right._ He put the bottle in the microwave and moved through the dark house to check on his sons.

Moses and Zeus immediately raise their heads as Elliot enters the large room and simply stares at the shadows as he whispers to the dogs that it's simply him entering. Moses returns her head to Sam's hip and Elliot is no longer a concern to her. Zeus finds his way to the foot of Isaac's bed and flops himself down, he's been pushed around by his three-year-old who has manage to climb into bed with his brother, snuggle as close to him as possible and sleep soundly. Elliot makes his rounds, his lips grazing the cheek of each one of his boys and he is consumed with them. He's consumed with the possibilities that each one of them represents.

Elliot can hear the microwave signaling that its work is done and so just as quietly as he's entered his sons' room, he leaves. He retrieves the bottle, adds just a touch of cold water to it and secured the cap before shaking it and testing it on his wrist.

Abel's cries are getting louder and he picks up the pace. His feet hit the cool of the plastic again and he stops. Immediately. He stares at the gaping hole in the structure of his home, stares at the marks on the ceiling that indicate there will be a large hole there come tomorrow when the rest of the remodeling crew comes in. He can see the sheet rock that has been demolished and then it hits him.

The reason why his house feels right.

It feels right because it represents them moving forward, expanding their home so that Abel can have a place in their family. It feels right because his wife is finding her way in all of this, she's clawing at life. She's destroying walls and structure that has kept her safe for years so that he can grow stronger with her. It's simple and while he stands there he thinks he'll never be able to tell her these things because they'll probably sound stupid but, tonight the house is right and he can't remember feeling this type of relief. He can't remember feeling like he could breathe again, like everything would truly be okay. He couldn't help the water that threatened to spill over from his eyes and the only thing that saved him from his third break-down in twenty-four hours was his wife's voice.

"El?" she questioned, with a crying Abel in her arms. "Elliot? Are you okay?"

His head snapped to see her and even with her brows screwed up in confusion and her bouncing to try and sooth Abel…. She was beautiful. He smiled and raised the bottle up between them, "His cry… he's hungry."

She tilted her head in confusion and looked at him with curiosity, "So… you're standing in the middle of the house, in your boxers with a goofy grin, because…?" she let her voice trail off in teasing.

He closed the gap between them and handed her the bottle with a smirk, "Take it… it's the only way your getting that boy quiet."

She accepted it and brushed the nipple against Abel's lips. He took it instantly and the space between Olivia and Elliot was quiet save his greedy suckling. She peered down at Abel and grinned, "He's just like you Elliot… grumpy when hungry."

He watched her watch his son and guess what? That felt right, too. Her slender hands held Abel securely against her and Abel's tiny hands held onto her wrist that held his bottle for him. She was smiling softly down at him and her new short crop had let him see her face so much more freely. She looked more at peace, as if simply making the decision to get better had already started her healing process. Without a word, he closed the gap between them and cupped her face in both of his hands, tipping her face to look at him.

She was confused as to his sudden demeanor because only hours ago, they were both crying against one another and she knew he'd reached his limit with her and now he was looking at her with adoration in his eyes and his hands were warm against her face and he was simply looking at her.

She couldn't take the scrutiny and she blushed, "What?"

His thumb brushed back and forth over the line of her cheek and he took a step closer careful of his son in her arms, "Nothing," he said softly, his lips slanting over hers and his eyes closing.

She felt right.

She opened her mouth to ask what was happening and he slipped his tongue past her lips. Her hands were occupied and he was almost glad for that because he just wanted to be the one to touch her, to kiss her and to hear her.

She'd opened her mouth even more, giving him full permission to deepen the kiss and she felt an instant pooling between her legs. She moaned against his mouth feeling his tongue tickle her own and when he pulled away, she moved closer, nipped at his lip to come back to her and he did. His hand moved from her cheek and slid into her short hair. The sensation had blood rocketing to his crotch and he whimpered against her.

Whimpered for the second time that day.

He pulled away, his jaw clenching so as not to devour her instantly. He swallowed and kissed her again, let his lips rest against hers and loved how soft they were. Somehow he'd forgotten that she had the softest lips. "Sit with me," he said and she smiled because it was laced in the confidence she thought she'd taken from him.

"You're being weird… I told you that you needed sleep," she said but still slipped her hand into his and let him lead her to the couch. He sat first and carefully tugged her and his son into his lap.

"He's beautiful," Elliot whispered and rested his hand on Abel's tiny abdomen as he rested in Olivia's arms.

She chuckled against Elliot and rested her forehead in the crook of his neck as she fed the tiny life, "His diaper was a disaster… nothing beautiful about it."

He smiled and closed his eyes, his lips on the crown of her head, "He looks like you and he's beautiful and you look beautiful with him."

She pulled back to look at him and smirked, "What's going on?"

He kissed her again, "Just… just thinking that this little guy is a new beginning for us Liv… he's our silver lining and… it feels right having him here."

Olivia grinned and rested her forehead against his pulse point again. She remained quiet, neither agreeing or disagreeing and he sees that as an accomplishment, as a step forward for her. He took a deep breath and held them both closer and… it felt right.


	27. Routine

She's purposely gotten up as early as she could. The moment the sun started to peek into their room, she'd stealthily wiggled her way out of Elliot's possessive embrace, and given him a tender kiss on his mouth and smiled down at him as he slept. He's revived her again and she feels an overwhelming peace this morning. He's held her through the night and they simply slept. They slept with a little boy just beyond the way and when he'd fussed, she'd gotten up to feed him, to tend to his needs, and found herself back in her husband's arms.

She'd stayed there and felt his pulse against her lips as she rested against his body. How he'd gotten her back into their bed she didn't know, but what she did know what that she'd slept peacefully. She kissed his mouth again and ran her hand over his beard, "I love you," she whispered and slipped quietly out of bed.

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Hannah hadn't been in her bed and it terrified her at first. She'd ripped the comforter back and saw the pink Barbie sheets and Mr. Uno and she felt her stomach jump into her throat but as the panic spread from the very center of her being and the heat rushed through her body, she heard a small sniffle from the kids' bathroom and she immediately recognized it as he daughter's.

Olivia was in the threshold of the bathroom within seconds, her hand instantly turning the light switch that her daughter couldn't reach, on. Hannah had jumped at the sudden illumination of the room and she looked up at her mother with tears in her eyes, her small hands frozen on the zipper of her one-piece pajamas.

"Hannah-girl?" Olivia whispered softly and immediately closed the distance between them. She kneeled in front of her daughter whose cheeks were flush and stained with hot tears.

"Potty in my jammies, Mommy," she cried, her hands still not moving from the zipper.

Olivia smiled sweetly and rested her hands on her daughter's, "It's okay, pumpkin. It's okay you wet the bed, you're still learning."

Hannah's chin quivered and her brunette hair bounced as she frantically shook her head in innocent disagreement, "Not da bed, Mommy. My jammies. It browken," she cried and took a step closer to her mother, "I sowry."

It occurred to her that it was very possible that Hannah may have learned a life lesson when she saw her spank Solomon.

Don't wet yourself. Ever. Because Mommy will lose her mind.

"Don't be," Olivia assured her and gently ran her hand through her daughter's hair, a small lingering kiss on her temple. "You didn't do anything wrong, pumpkin… your zipper got stuck," she said and gently tugged on the zipper until it was free. "Want a bath, baby?"

"Coldies, Mommy," Hannah said sadly and hugged her body as her skin produced goose bumps.

"Okay," Olivia nodded in understanding and gently helped her daughter with her panties before picking her up to stand on the counter. "Quick wash," Olivia told her and helped her hang on for balance as she ran the sink water to warm and helped clean her daughter.

"Mommy?" Hannah whispered as her mother cleaned her body with a warm washcloth.

"Yeah baby?" Olivia whispered, matching her tone to her daughter's as she rang the cloth out and grabbed a towel.

"You gonna hold me 'dis mornin'?" she asked and shuddered as her mother wrapped her in a large towel and held her close.

"I woke up super early, just to spend time with you, Hannah-girl," Olivia assured her as they walked back into Hannah's room and Olivia sat softly with her daughter in the rocking chair and tucked the towel tighter around her body. "Why didn't you wake me, baby?"

Hannah nestled closer to her mother, her lashes fluttering against her skin as she whispers to her mother, "I big girl. I go potty but zippie brwoken."

Olivia smiled and kissed the crown of her daughter's head, "Those darn zippies," she said softly and continued to rock her gently. "I love you, Monster-Girl."

"You get me kitty?" Hannah whispered sleepily.

Olivia rolled her eyes in playfulness and stroked her daughter's back through the terry cloth towel, "The kitty will be eaten baby, but… I'll tell you a story."

Hannah giggled and her arms tightened around her mother's neck, "Tell me, mommy!"

Olivia chuckled at her daughter's eagerness and held her close, "There once was a queen-"

"Was her purdy like yous?" Hannah asked.

Olivia smirked, "Yeah, pretty like me… but… she had an ugly, ugly secret."

"Uh-ohs."

Olivia continued to rock her daughter with a small smile on her face, "Yeah, she had a big uh-oh one day when the King found out her secret-"

"What'da secret?"

"Shhh," Olivia chuckled softly and stroked her hair tenderly, "Listen to the story, baby."

She giggled against her mother again, "More rockies. More story!"

"Okay," she agrees and continues. "The queen thought that the king was gonna be super mad at her."

"But hims luves her and him not never mad at her," the toddler insisted.

Olivia took this into consideration. Elliot, even in this midst of his hurting and frustration and their yelling matches… he'd never once so much as inferred that what had happened all those years ago with her brother was her fault. He never once so much as leaned to the side that could indicate he thought she should have gotten better faster or that she was weak for letting her past infiltrate their marriage.

"He loves his queen so much," Olivia assured her. "He loves her so much that he fought against evil ghosts and bad men and-"

"He winded dem?" Hannah whispered and sunk tiredly into her mother's body.

Olivia grinned, "Yeah, the King won. He sent the bad men far, far away from his queen and-"

"Made her supers happies," Hannah muttered.

Olivia nodded gently against her daughter and gave her a kiss before standing with her in her arms, "The king made the queen so happy, baby. So happy."

"Mommy, wat'were da secret?" Hannah asked softly as Olivia walked with her to the master bedroom.

Olivia gently placed Hannah's towel wrapped body next to her sleeping husband whose arms instantly wrapped around her and adjusted the comforter over her. "That the queen wasn't as strong as she seemed."

"But her was," Hannah insisted and snuggled against her father, "Da king jus hada proof it."

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"Wha'we makin' Mommer?" Solomon asked as he sat on the kitchen counter, his mother's arm trapping him for safety.

"How do eggs sound?" she suggested. "I'll let you crack'em."

Solomon giggled on the counter as he raised his foot to his thigh to play with his pudgy foot, "Dat yuckies! Cakes! We makes cakes!"

"Pancakes," Olivia laughed, "how can I help you be a chef if you only want to make pancakes?"

He giggled and pressed his foot into her mid drift, his toes digging in to tickle her, "Fru'loops?"

"Fruit loops for Saturday breakfast?"

"An'cakes," he smiled up at her again and reached up to wrap his arms around her neck and stand on the counter top. "Pweeeze, Mommer? You's so purdy, Mommer."

She grinned showing a full row of perfect teeth, "How about French toast?"

He rested his forehead against hers and crossed his eyes to see his mother's, "We makes a mess?"

"A big one," she assured him.

He giggled in sheer glee and stomped his bare feet on the counter top, "Yeah!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Clothes!" Olivia announced loudly the moment her five-year-old wandered into the kitchen stark naked.

"Ah, Mama," Isaac huffed and leaned up against his mother's leg as she handed Solomon a stack of napkins and directed him to the table.

"Don't you ah, Mama, me, young man," she smiled down at her son, her hand running over his blond hair. "You're gonna get sick… go get some clothes on. Now."

"But-" he started to huff when Sam's voice cut in suddenly.

"Dude! Just do it, man. No one wants to see butt cheeks!"

"Hey! _You can't_ see my cheeks!" Isaac snapped back and held tighter to him mother's leg.

"Isaac!" Olivia chided, "There's your warning."

"Hey," Isaac looked up at his mother in pure indignation, "wha'bout my one and two?"

"Not for something like that. Be a big boy, Isaac, Sam didn't do anything to you. You woke up grumpy. Go put your pajamas back on and go back to sleep for a while."

"He started it," Isaac muttered and buried his face in his mother's leg. Most of the time he was independent then there were these few and far between moments of insecurity and clinginess that while Olivia loved that he was close, there was no way he would be permitted to fire off such caustic remarks.

"You're right," Sam chuckled, "I _can't_ see your cheeks, and you have no idea how thankful I am for that, dude…. Go get your clothes on."

"No," Isaac whined into his mother's leg, "Mommy, I'm grumpy," he cried and butted his head against her leg as Solomon finished placing the napkins randomly on the table, barely tall enough to reach let alone have accurate placement.

"Broder!" Solomon grinned as he spotted Isaac for the first time and instantly ran to him enveloping him in a hug against their mother. "How comes you naked? Sissy gonna be up too."

"He's a flasher," Sam informed his little brother as he felt along the counter and reached out for his mother. A morning kiss on her cheek, "You smell nice, Mom."

Olivia took Solomon's words into consideration. She tried not to dwell on it, to put them in back of her mind and vow that she'd never strike their children again, no matter what the provocation. "Well, you know," she stretched for a chuckle, "A shower once a week does the trick."

"Gross mom," Sam smiled and kissed her again, "I love you, Mom."

Olivia smiled brightly and hooked her hand around his neck, she brought him close to her to lean her forehead against his, "I love you… it's Saturday, you know?"

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, so?"

"So?" she feigned a bit of hurt. "Did you forget that you and I walk on Saturdays?"

He took a deep breath and exhaled it over her face as he pulled away and frowned. "I never forgot," he whispered sadly. "I…I thought you did, though"

Olivia cupped his cheek softly and kissed his temple as Isaac cried against her leg, "I never forgot, son. Never. Just had to get some stuff right."

"Come on broder!" Solomon said excitedly as he pulled on his Isaac's arm, "Come on. Gonna get sickies, broder," he told him as he pulled again at his arm and finally got a very grumpy Isaac to follow him to the boys' room even as he cried and wailed and carried on.

"Mom?" Sam said softly as Isaac and Solomon disappeared.

"Yeah?"

"Is it right, now? The stuff, I mean."

Olivia pulled him into a tight hug, her lips at his ear, "It's not right just yet, but it's on the right path."

His arms squeezed her about her waist and she felt him smile against her neck, "So we're gonna get to walk today?"

She pulled back kissed his forehead and smiled, "Yeah. You and me, right after breakfast."

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Elliot still lay asleep just where Olivia had left him a little over an hour and half ago and while she'd also left her daughter nestled tightly against her father, her small body wrapped in a warm terry cloth towel, Hannah had demonstrated that she could also wiggle carefully out of her father's embrace and be just as stealth as her mother.

"Pumpkin?" Olivia whispered loudly. "Honey? You're scaring me, baby? Please say hello."

"Shhh? Daddy sweepies," Hannah whispered and Olivia turned around to see her only daughter, sitting butt naked on the floor of their closet her toy of choice, her father's old Marine dress hat hanging lopsided over her brunette hair, her bangs pressing further into her dark eyes and a big smile on her face as she held her finger against her small nose in an effort to silence her mother.

Olivia grinned and crossed the room in search of the digital camera, "Look up here baby," Olivia whispered pointing to the camera she held, "Smile pumpkin," she chuckled and promptly snapped the photo before bending low to pick up her daughter.

"Well-well-well," Elliot propped himself up on his elbows and looked on at his wife and daughter with sleepy eyes. "Two of the most beautiful ladies I've ever seen and they're both in my room. No one will every believe me."

Olivia smiled broadly at her husband and closed the gap between them as Hannah reached out for her father who gladly took her into his arms, "Morning, El," Olivia said softly and sat on the edge of the bed as he wrapped Hannah again in her towel and let her snuggle next to him.

Elliot looked up at his wife and held out his hand to her, "Good morning. Did you sleep better last night?"

She nodded, "So much better. Thank you, Elliot… for everything."

Elliot pulled his wife closer to him so that she lay beside him, his arm around her, "Don't ever feel like you've got to thank me, Liv… I just want you happy, that's all."

She kissed him though his undershirt and smiled up at him, "I woke up this morning and… I'm happy, El. I am."

"Good, I'm really happy to hear that, Olivia… you have no idea how much so."

"I hungies," Hannah popped in and sat back up on the bed. "My tummy grumblin' and getting' loud."

Olivia smiled and held her hand out, "Then lets get some food in there, honey."

"Yeah! And then we gets a kitty!"

Olivia took a deep breath, not to sooth anger but to try and figure out exactly what to do, with this kitty predicament. "Pumpkin," Olivia said softly as Elliot moved to sit next to them, his feet now on the floor. "If we get a kitty, Zeus and Moses won't be nice and it's not that they won't want to be nice but doggies and puppies don't like each other."

She bowed her head and stuck her bottom lip out towards her father, "Daddy… I no hit Solo no more."

"I know honey. You're mommy told me that and I'm very, very proud of you," he assured her and kissed her temple. "We just don't want you to get a kitty if the kitty is gonna get hurt…. That wouldn't be nice, would it?"

She fiddled with her towel and shook her head sadly, "No… But I wants one… Solo get a snakie… my Kermi dead… dat not fair."

Elliot looked to Olivia and both of them were equally at a loss as to fix this, as to make this right with their little girl. Indeed the death of her first animal had been a tragic mistake and the fact that Elliot is almost positive Horace is simply cruising around in the house and sooner or later he will be found by accident and hopefully not by his wife didn't help because when he finally did show himself, it would add to Hannah's frustration already. "You let daddy figure it out okay, baby?"

"You makes it fair?" Hannah asked sadly.

"Of course Daddy will, honey. We'll think of something," Olivia assured her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Easy on the syrup, Isaac," Elliot smiled, "You'll be bouncing off the walls with all that liquid sugar."

"Mommy's got all kinds of syrup on her's!" Isaac said with a smile and poured just another dab on his French toast.

Olivia flashed a guilty smile as she took another bite of her breakfast, her elbow resting on the table, her fork dangling from her hand as she tried to cover her guilty look. Elliot slid his hand over her thigh, leaned over and kissed her cheek, "You're mom's got a sugar proof stomach," he teased and smiled as the boys and Hannah giggled and laughed from the kitchen table. Elliot leaned just little more and kissed the corner of her mouth, tasted a small drop of the syrup that rested there, "I love you," he whispered and chastely kissed her cheek.

"Grootie-ottie!" Solomon chuckled as Sam felt for his brother's sippie-cup and slid it closer to him trying to shush him.

"Kiss'er again, Daddy!" Hannah demanded through a grin as she sloppily crammed another piece of French toast into her mouth. "Do it again!" she mumbled around her food and quickly proceeded to throw a piece of sticky breakfast at Solomon.

"Hey!" Solomon yelled, "I makded dat' for yous! Eats it!"

"That's one, Hannah," Elliot said simply and continued with his breakfast. "Is it true, Solo? You made this with, Mommer?"

Solomon grinned after taking a sip from his sippie cup and carelessly flopping it back on the table, "I'a chef!" He declared proudly.

"It's pretty good!" Sam congratulated him and took another bite, "It's _really_ good, little chef!"

Solomon smiled and giggled and looked up at his mother from his booster seat, "Makes a mess."

"Yep, sure did," Olivia laughed and although her son's meal was in fact good, he'd been careful to listen to his mother's instruction and she'd been shocked that she could find something that could keep his attention span as long as cooking had. She'd enjoyed it, that hour with her son where they got messy in egg batter and he'd kissed her just because she was there and it was simply their time without anyone else. No worries of spanking, no aftermath of it either.

She watched her family, watched them laugh and tease one another, watched Elliot wipe their daughter's face tenderly, smiled when Isaac shoved a little more French toast than he could chew into his mouth and observed in slight awe as Sam stood and immediately removed Abel from the highchair that supported his car-seat.

"It's okay, son," Olivia assured him and wiped her mouth on a napkin, "I'll get him."

"I got'em." Sam assured her, "Keep eatin' mom. My stomach hurts anyway."

Elliot tilted his head and observed his son sitting slowly with his littlest brother, "Stomach hurts? You okay, son?"

"Yeah," Sam assured them both and felt for his chair before sitting slowly with Abel in his arms, "just thought he'd be hungry, too."

Isaac slid quickly out of his seat still chewing a bite of his food and padded quickly to the kitchen, standing on his tip-toes and reaching, stretching and grunting for what he needed, he returned immediately to his oldest brother and handed a bottle of formula to him, "Here, Sammy… can I have your pancake?"

Sam smirked, and waited until he felt Abel latch onto the bottle before responding, "Dude, it's French toast, and no… you'll get fat, you already had yours."

"Fat!" Isaac's jaw dropped, "I'm not fat!"

Olivia and Elliot chuckled, "Honey," Olivia started, "If you want more, ask. I'll make you m-"

"But he's not eatin' it!" Isaac said as he gestured to the uneaten meal.

"Wan mines?" Hannah asked as she held up a piece of soggy bread dripping in syrup.

Elliot reached to her, wiped her hand gently and reminded her to use her fork like she knows how to.

Isaac frowned and waited only a few more seconds as his parents began to talk with one another before he very quietly reached over to an unsuspecting Samuel and swiped his food.

Olivia stopped immediately and raised a brow at her young son. "You sure you want to do that?"

Isaac furrowed his brows at his mother and glanced over at his brother who simply smiled, "Isaac, I know you stole my food, dude."

Isaac's jaw dropped, "How'd you know?"

"I'm not dumb."

Isaac looked back at his mother wondering just how on earth it had happened that his brother knew he'd swiped his food. "I warned you," Olivia shrugged and continued with her meal, leaving her five-year-old to wander.

Isaac stood and turned to Sam as he fed Abel, he waved his hand in front of his face, "Hey! How'd you do that?" he asked shocked and waved his hand some more just to double check.

"Stop short-stack, just eat it," Sam conceded, tired of the air the waving hand was producing over his face. "But don't steal and don't be sneaky like that either. It's not cool."

"Kay," Isaac agreed, more focused on the food and promptly began to eat, shoving food in until his cheeks puffed out and he smiled up at his dad.

Elliot smiled back, "You're gonna choke."

Isaac took a drink from his small cup and smiled again as milk dribbled down his chin. "I'm a big boy."

Olivia grinned and sat back in her chair taking it all in. The laughter and the carefree attitude of their children. The way Sam cared for the kids, assuring they had their milk, that the other had his bottle and still that the other learned manners of honesty and courtesy.

The only thing she loved more than all of that was how Elliot's eyes lit up, how his smile flashed freely, nothing forced or mustered up to display to onlookers. No, it was genuine and his warm hand grazed her leg, periodically producing her own smile. She loved to watch the interaction here as the smell of syrup lingered through the air and the citrus of orange juice tingled her lips.

She felt more confident with what she'd told Sam. Things weren't right just yet, but they were on the right path.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Casey?" George Huang smiled from the threshold of his office and invited her in with a wave of his arm.

"Hey," Casey smiled tightly and practically pushed past him to get into his streamline office "I need your help."

George gently closed the door behind her, "Would you like something to drink?"

"George," Casey exhaled and flopped into an oversized chair that practically enveloped her entire body.

"You seem worn down-"

"Thanks George, that's exactly what I needed to hear right now. That I look like crap."

George smirked and slowly took a seat across her and crossed his legs, "You know that's not what I meant… you just look like you're under a tremendous amount of stress. Is everything going okay at home?"

Casey couldn't help but smile. Yes, everything was going great at home well, other than the fact that she and her husband sat on opposite sides of the fence when it came to Alex. Casey's version of what should happen was simple. Step One: Go to wherever Alex is. Step Two: Yell at Alex for doing everything entirely wrong and Step 3 Part A: Offer ultimatum to come back with Casey or be hit over the head and dragged back. Part B: Hit Alex over the head and drag her back should she not accept the ultimatum. Paul on the other hand, had some sort of deep philosophical-bull about treading lightly. He simply didn't understand how the three women operated.

"Everything is fine at home, George," Casey said softly. "I… I actually came because I need your help. I need a favor."

George offered one of his tight-lip arrogant smiles that were both infuriating and oddly comforting, "Well, I gathered that. I mean, none of you actually come to me for purely social purposes."

"Funny," Casey deadpanned. "It's about Alex… can you help?"

"Alex?" George furrowed his brows, suddenly intrigued as he leaned forward on his knees. "Is she okay?"

Casey exhaled, "I don't know- no one knows… she vanished."

"Vanished?" George arched a brow. "What precipitated that? May I ask?"

Casey licked her lips, "I can't… I can't really get into that George. Suffice it to say that she's having a rough time at home… She took Thomas and left Robert."

George took a deep breath in and leaned back slowly in his chair, tugging on his sweater vest in what Casey thought was an attempt to stall for time, to gather his thoughts or perhaps to clean up the brick of shit that was just laid under his chair because both of them were now on the same page.

"He could press charges, Casey."

"Yeah," Casey nodded wide-eyed. "I know that and you know that and everyone else that we know, knows that but let's thank our lucky stars that-"

"Her husband hasn't figured out that spouses can be prosecuted for taking their children across state lines," George finished and shifted in his seat. "My guess is… you're wondering if she's gone back to the location and name she was given while she was in the program? Maybe she hasn't gone over state lines. Maybe she's still in New York."

Casey leaned forward to suggest the utmost importance of their conversation, "'s gone. I tracked her to Texas where she promptly fell off the face of the earth. George… you're FBI… you could find out where she was placed-"

"She never told you or Olivia?" George asked, somewhat shocked.

"She never so much as talked about the program to me and Olivia has decided to pull her own vanishing act for the time being so I'm kind of stuck here, George… .I need you."

George licked his lips and tilted his head to look at Casey, "And what are you going to do if we do find her, Casey? And I mean _if_ because this isn't a simple string to pull, it's not a matter of me calling a friend from college to interview a suspect for you or to collaborate with me on a case. This… What are you going to do?"

Casey shook her head, "I haven't really thought that far yet, George," she said in irritation. "Other than wanting to strangle her and tell her what a rotten bitch she's being," her voice softened and she looked straight at George with pleading in her eyes. "I also want her to know that we're still here. That her husband is worried sick about her and that… not all things that are broken have to stay that way."

George leaned back in his chair for a brief moment before standing and crossing the room to a filing cabinet that he unlocked with a key and slowly made his way through the hanging folders. "Why did she leave?"

"I told you-"

"Was it anything illegal? Anything that is gonna get you or I into any more trouble?" he asked and pulled out a manila folder before turning around to face Casey.

Casey smirked, "No more than usual."

"Comforting," George smirked and took a seat at his desk this time. He opened up the folder and looked up at Casey, "When Alex came back for Olivia's trial… she was having a very difficult time with the transition."

"Olivia had mentioned that to me," Casey confirmed, "But… it was all based on what we saw from Alex, not what she'd actually said to us… she just wouldn't talk about it."

"I don't think she wanted it to exist," George said softly. "She was pulled away without warning from the only life she knew and from people she cared about and forced to become someone she wasn't… when she came back here, she came to see me a few times-"

"She never said anything," Casey whispered in shock. "She never once said-"

"Well," George smirked at Casey, "take into consideration who Alex is. She wouldn't want everyone knowing. She asked if she could be allowed to be debriefed by me and the FBI agreed. I believe more so because I was someone she was familiar with. I saw her for a few months and then… Well, when she met Robert things seemed to improve drastically and she simply didn't need to be here. She was very comfortable moving on. Or at least she appeared that way."

"So… I mean… is it possible that she went back to a friend or lover?"

"I doubt it," George shook his head and looked over his notes, "Alex hated that life. She had a long relationship but she herself admitted it was only because she knew she had to settle. She had to create something different from what she had here to survive. She didn't like it at all."

"Well," Casey leaned forward in hopes of gathering information from glancing at Huang's notes. "Did she ever tell you what her name was or where she lived? Anything that could point me in the right direction?"

"Brittany Solvang," George said softly, "Oxnard, California."

"Brittany Solvang?" Casey made a look of disapproval, "Alex doesn't really look like a Brittany Solvang."

George smiled and looked out the window before looking back, "It doesn't really matter, because once she elected to get out of the program… Brittany Solvang, disappeared."

"What?" Casey asked, "What do you mean?"

"Brittany Solvang is no longer in existence. The FBI pulls the identity once the person elects to leave or is released from the program."

Casey's jaw dropped, "Well what the hell am I supposed to do now?"

George shrugged his shoulder, "I'm sure her ex-fiancé in Oxnard is still dying to know why she left him at the alter."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mom?" Sam asked as he and his mother walked casually along the shoulder of the road, the fallen leaves crumpling under their footsteps as the cool breeze surrounded them.

"Yeah, honey?"

"Do you think I'm fat?" Sam asked and Olivia almost burst into laughter until she noticed that Sam was abundantly serious.

"What? No… honey you're a swimmer. A very good swimmer. You're not fat. Not even a little… who told you that?"

"My coach said I was starting to look like I haven't been swimming."

"Well," Olivia nudged him gently with her elbow, "you haven't been with that wrist."

"I told him that… you know that the water kills me when I stroke," Sam said softly and absently rubbed his wrist through the small black brace.

"And what did he say?" Olivia asked in curiosity.

"He said he understood but that I needed to keep my cardio up and that I should start running… Running is really hard for me, Mom."

Olivia wrapped her arm around Sam's shoulder and kissed his temple, "You're not fat honey… your coach just doesn't want you to struggle with endurance when you do get back in to the pool. How about the treadmill at the gym? You know in case you forgot, your parents own two gyms so…. Treadmills aren't' exactly lacking."

He smiled softly, "I loose my balance on them… Sometimes I hit the rail with my hip and… I don't know, I feel like I'm gonna fall off and everyone is gonna laugh at me."

"The ellip-"

"I need my hand to hold on."

"How about spin-"

"Hand."

"Aerobi-"

"I can't see the people to know what their doing," he laughed and nudged her back as they walked.

"Well," Olivia stopped and softly placed her hand on his shoulder to let him know that he needed too as well. "What can I do for you? How can I make it better for you Sam?"

Sam chewed his bottom lip, "Dad said…. Dad said you used to run a lot… can you run with me? I don't want to get lost or fall."

Olivia grinned, "Sam you want to beat your ol' mom around the track huh?"

Sam blushed, "No… I just don't want to suffer or gain weight-"

"Hey," she said, and Sam immediately caught the seriousness in her tone. "I don't want you getting obsessed with your weight, do you understand? Its one thing to be healthy but I don't want you to be obsessed, you got it? Because that's not healthy."

"Got it," Sam nodded and continued to walk with his mother. "Mom?"

"Yeah baby?"

"You sound happy," he said matter of fact.

"I am happy, baby," she assured him.

"Did Abel make you that way? Happy, I mean?" he asked and there was something in his voice that was completely broken.

Olivia stopped again and looked at her son, looked at the worry on his face and the stress in his jaw, "Samuel," she said and cupped his cheek, "you have always made me happy, do you understand that?"

Sam swallowed and nodded softly as a tear slipped down his cheek, "Yeah," he whispered.

She swiped her thumb over his tear and still held his face in her hands, "Then why are you crying, honey? What is it?"

"I don't ever think… I'll be strong like you or Dad."

She furrowed her brows, "You're right," she said and felt him tense. "Shhh," she soothed, "Let me finish… You won't be strong like me or your Dad… you'll be stronger. You understand me?"

Sam covered her hands with his own and sniffled, "You sound so different today, Mom"

"I finally figured some things out baby. That's all," she said softly. "Sometimes, life gives us these really horrible things to deal with and our mind… well, sometimes it's a little too much and our minds go on hiatus."

He chuckled softly and lowered her hands from his face before stepping in and wrapping his arms around her, "I love you."

She furrowed her brows in confusion as to what exactly Sam was dealing with. Her guess was that feeling fat in his Speedo wasn't exactly on the priority list. "Mom? Can we sit somewhere and talk? I mean really talk?"

Olivia released him slowly and guided him carefully to a small patch of grass laden with fallen leaves, "Go ahead, take a seat. Your butt'll be soaked but… it's all that's out here," she said softly and sat down next to him, the soft morning sun beginning to touch them with its warm rays. "I guess, I should have brought my gloves, huh?" she asked softly hoping he'd be forthcoming in this discussion because really, she could already feel the moisture soaking through her jeans, but if he didn't care than neither did she.

"Want mine?" Sam asked softly and started to pull them off of his hands.

"No, honey. Keep'em on," she assured him and waited a few minutes before prodding him, "Want to tell me what's so important I'm sitting on wet grass?"

The corner of his mouth lifted gently, "I am too."

"I know," she bumped into him softly with her shoulder, "The big question, though, is why are we sitting on wet grass?"

He took a few moments and Olivia could sense that whatever he was about to say was heavy and she didn't know exactly if she was ready but what she did know was that she had a new strength about her, a renewed promise to her family and a personal want to get better. "Samue-"

"The man who raped you," Sam whispered and stopped as if testing the waters with those five words.

Her breathing stopped and she had to remind herself to inhale again. She could do this. She could. Not a problem. Just some questions. Cake. She cleared her throat, "Yeah, baby? Did you want to ask me something about him?"

Sam's brows crunched together and a vein popped out of his forehead as he chewed his bottom lip then tried to face his mothers direction a little more squarely, "He was your brother?... I mean… I hear you and Dad talk sometimes and… Was he?"

She swallowed and her tears were immediate but quiet. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes… it was a very long time ago, though, Sam-"

"But… it still hurts you. It hurts you a lot doesn't it?"

She nodded and found herself chewing on her own lip, suddenly unconcerned with the moisture of the grass, or the trees blowing gently around them or the occasional car passing them by, "Yeah, Samuel. It hurts me a lot."

He took a few more moments to himself as if piecing together information, not wanting her to know that he hears things he knows would embarrass her, things that would ruin surprises for his brothers and sister. He knows she sometimes had his father check the bedding to make sure Horace hasn't shown up and he knows that she and his father have decided on his punishment for breaking the officer's nose and he also knows that whatever his father does with his tongue she always asks him to do it again.

"Sam-"

"Abel… he's his, huh?"

"Is that important?" she asked softly.

Sam raised his shoulder, "I don't know… I thought, I mean… I hear you and Dad talking and… it's hard to love him isn't it?"

"Do you think it's hard to love him?" she asked softly, "Because of who his father is?"

Sam's brows raised softly, "My real dad was pretty bad… you learned to love me, but… you shut down on me when Abel came to live with us and you said that we weren't ever allowed to shut down on one another. I don't like Abel sometimes because I know that your heart must really hurt."

She ran her knuckle over his cheek as softly as she could, "I would never know that you struggle with Abel… not the way you care for him so much."

Sam took a breath, "I thought maybe… maybe if you could see how much me and Dad like him and how much the monsters like him… that you would like him, too. But it's hard, cause sometimes I don't like him either."

"Sam," Olivia covered his hand with her own, "you can't punish Abel for something that happened to me. He didn't have anything to do with it and you know what?"

"What?"

She took a deep breath and licked her lips before exhaling, "In a weird way… Abel has forced me to face the things that happened to me Sam. To really face them and to deal with them."

"But… couldn't you face them without Abel?" he asked in curiosity.

"I don't think so, honey. I… I was being too much of a coward and you know what else? It was really starting to make your father sad too and I… I don't ever want to see your father sad."

Sam nodded softly, "So… so that's how you get strong? By facing the things that happened to you and facing people you don't care for because they hurt you?"

"Well," she shrugged, "I suppose in this instance, that's what's gonna make me stronger, sure."

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"So you're just gonna fly to California?" Paul smiled from his seat in the small diner, his son on his lap and happily eating from his father's fork when the opportunity presented its self.

"You don't approve?" Casey tilted her head as she dipped her fry in A-1 sauce.

"It's not a matter of approving or not approving," he assured her as he extended his leg to hers for the sole purpose of contact. "It's just… Casey, you can't just go there and rip some guys heart out by asking about his old lover."

Casey exhaled, "You make me out to this cruel woman, Paul," she smiled sexily and rubbed his calve with her foot, "Is that how you see me Paul? Am I really that bad?"

Paul kissed the top of his son's head, "That's not what I think. What I think is that you love Alex so much… some times you don't take the whole picture into consideration."

Casey looked down at her meal, picked up the philly cheese steak and took a bite as she soaked up his words. She didn't want this to be a fight. Not at all. She wanted a discussion and they'd been doing well up until she told him she wanted to fly to California to see if she could pull information out of this guy. Anything to point them into the right direction.

"Have you heard from the Stablers?" Casey mumbled, covering her mouth as she chewed her food.

"Hi mommy!" Addison grinned at his mother and waved just because he could.

"Hi sweety," Casey waved across the small table, "I love you."

"I love you, too!" he giggled and took a large bite from his father's fork.

"He's getting so big," Casey smiled warmly and looked from her son to her husband, "he looks more and more like you everyday."

He grinned proudly and hugged his boy as he sat on his lap, "He and I did a little science experiment this morning."

"How'd he like it?" Casey asked and took another bite of her meal.

"He loved it… he thinks q-tips are magic wands now because when you soak them in dish soap and then place them in milk that has a few drops of food coloring… well, all sorts of things happen."

She chuckled and swallowed, "The fact that you know something like that is a bit disturbing."

Paul took a sip of his drink and looked at his wife, "Case… all I'm saying is that if you're gonna flip everyone's world upside down, you better handle this right. Don't be so hard on Alex that she won't want to come back. She's already punishing herself enough don't you think?"

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"So," Olivia smiled warmly at her husband through the mirror as she hugged him from behind, kissed him softly on his back through his shirt and playfully rested her fingertips on the bare skin just under the hem, "I had an interesting talk with, Sam."

"Yeah?" Elliot grinned at her and wrapped her hands around him tighter. "What he'd have to say? He's been wanting to talk with you for awhile."

"Well," she took a deep breath and exhaled it over the back of his shirt. The warm sensation hit his penis like an electrode. "He… I think he's still holding onto something but… he knows quite a bit, Elliot. It… it shocked me. He knows that Abel is my brother's son and he knows… he knows what Oliver did to me."

Elliot spun around immediately and looked at her, his hand instantly cupping her face, "Are you okay? How'd that go? Do you need to talk? What-"

"Shhh," she grinned and covered his lips with her finger. "I'm just fine. I'm fine and so is he. I think… I think he's letting us know things in phases, that's all."

"But you're okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned as he leaned back to rest against the counter of the bathroom sink.

"I am… I just wanted you to know that he's piecing things together more and more and I know we've never wanted to just put it all out there for him, but… he's a smart boy."

"But you're okay?" he asked again and rested his hand on the curve of her hip, "you're the one I care about right now. I love him to death, but… are you okay?"

She smiled broadly and hooked her arm around his neck, pulling him close to her, "I'm fine," she assured him and softly pressed her lips against his, sucked gently on his lower lip and pulled back quietly. She felt his erection against her mid section and smiled up at him, "Too bad we were interrupted in the truck… you been fighting this long?"

He swallowed loudly and clenched his jaw, "Liv… come on. I've got to trim my beard and you know I'm horrible at it…. I can't be distracted."

She arched her brow and stared at him, dared him to stop her as she slowly undid the button on his jeans, "Sam is in the shower… Isaac and monsters are watching Saturday morning cartoons," she said and slowly started to unzip his zipper as she leaned in little by little, her lips mere inches from his. "Abel is sleeping in the play pen," she said softly and inched her lips closer to his, felt his breath against her face as it came out in short exhalations.

His hips moved gently against her, "Come on, El," she goaded. "You wanted to have sex with me last night, just as much as I wanted to have sex with you."

"Liv," he warned and he wasn't sure how serious he sounded but he was pretty sure that when he reached around and rested his hands on the globes of her backside that she knew he wanted her and if she didn't figure it out, he ground his painful erection against her and exhaled in pleasure so that she could.

She flicked her tongue over his lips, grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged at it, "Take it off."

"Liv, I-"

"Now. Take it off. We don't have time for this. I still have to get to work," she told him and raised his shirt over his head, his arms coming immediately down and grabbing her hips, spinning and picking her up onto the counter in one smooth motion.

He was frantic and hungry and in love with her and at this moment, in lust with her. His hand fell immediately to her breast as he cradled her on the counter, his large arm holding her waist as she tilted her head back to the mirror and groaned at his possessive touch.

His lips were on hers again and his hand was pulling quickly at the neckline of her shirt, pulling it down roughly to expose her bra. He separated from her mouth, tried desperately to thrust against her again and when he didn't like the minimal contact he was receiving he abruptly pulled her closer. She gasped and chuckled at the sudden movement and he leered at her with heat and seduction and pure cockiness.

"What are you waiting for, Elliot?" she whispered softly and raised her feet to his hips, gently began to shove the denim down over his hips with her toes.

He growled feeling her legs and feet against him, he ducked his head to her exposed cleavage and bit gently there, felt her arch against him and then he suddenly stopped, his lips still resting tenderly over her chest. "Liv-" he whispered and swallowed before looking up at her.

She was so sexy, waiting for him to have his way with her. She was waiting for him to move inside of her, to have his lips on her nipples, his hands where they pleased and right now her face was flush, her lips swollen and her eyes were dark with ache.

"What's wrong?" she asked, searching his face. "What is it? Does this hurt to be right here? We can go to the bed," she offered. "Do you want the bed?"

His face was suddenly serious and he slowly kissed the corner of her mouth, "Liv… we still… we still haven't talked. Don't you want to talk about-"

She pulled him closer with her leg, "Not as much as I want you inside of me, right now."

"But-"

"But?" she furrowed her brows and her limbs slowly released him.

He leaned his palms against his the counter top and hung his head, groaned in frustration. He wanted her but he wasn't so sure her emotions were up to this, just yet. "Liv… I don't want to fight with you."

She smirked, "Then you'd better loose those pants."

His erection hurt to be inside of her. He wanted to feel her body slide over his, her heat and wetness and pull and depth. He wanted it. Craved it. "Liv… I can't-"

She smiled, and licked her top lip as she stroked his length through his pants, "Oh, I think you can, El."

"Liv…," he raised his head, kissed her temple, "Liv… what if… what if you're not ready? What if you don't come? I don't want a fight. Not now."

Well, if that didn't kill the mood.

She took a deep breath, exhaled and to his astonishment, smiled up at him and shrugged, "I don't know if I'll climax, but isn't there only one way to find out?" she suggested and wiggled just a little closer to him, dipped her hand into his jeans and whispered in his ear, "I still enjoy this."

It had taken all of a nano-second for him to pull her into him hard, and she locked her legs around him and slapped her palms against the counter top in an attempt to not go crashing against the counter and mirror. "El-"

He'd picked her up and pinned her against the wall, her arms around his neck, as he crashed against her mouth, he was biting and seeking and pillaging and taking her for everything she'd give him.

"El," she managed to pant in between his kisses, "hurry, please."

She shifted so his knee was against the wall, her body resting on his thigh and he could care less that it hurt like hell to have her in that position. He pushed his pants down even farther, just enough to release his body and then he groaned in frustration. She thought he was going to stop and she momentarily felt disappointed because she just needed this connection, she didn't care if it lasted one minute or one hour. She wanted him inside of her. Now.

So she was relieved when he'd gently swatted her leg, "Help me out, baby," he panted and moved his hips just enough for her to stand on her own will, but when he felt that she moved too slowly in taking her jeans off, he tugged them down with her panties. Yanked them over her thighs in desperation and continued to pull them further as he kissed and lapped at her skin, her inner thighs and kissed the folds of her sex just as she'd kicked one leg out of the cumbersome garment.

She groaned the minute his tongue darted out to stroke her and he couldn't help himself any longer, he stood immediately and hiked her against the wall, his hand on his shaft as he entered her. Fast and hard.

She wrapped her arm tighter around his neck, her other hand fisting through his hair as she thudded the back of her head against the wall, her face in a grimace of pain and satisfaction. She pulsed around his length and he didn't wait. He didn't follow his standard procedure of checking to make sure she was okay, instead he pulled out and thrust into her deeper and her leg wrapped around him reflexively.

She felt herself getting wetter with every stroke of his body inside of hers and she didn't care that wet friction, the smell of sex and the sounds of their pleasure were the only things that filled the air. She held on, as he thrust and she felt her arms loose their grip as the sheen of sweat built on his body, "Faster, Elliot," she groaned. "Oh God," she moaned and dragged her teeth over his beard.

He reached back, pulled her hands from his neck and pressed them above her head, his hips taking over in a pace that he didn't know how long would last. His lips against hers before falling to her neck and the top of her cleavage "I'm always fighting this damn erection for you," he managed and slammed into her again, holding himself as high and deep as possible.

She bit her bottom lip and tried to hold in a scream. She was wet, she could feel it, her thighs were hot and burning and her nipples were harder than she could ever remember but what she also realized was that her body wasn't going to release and that was fine with her because Elliot was literally consuming her and she'd let him have whatever he wanted.

"Liv," he panted and pulled out, moved back in and continued the same frantic pace again. "Coming," he groaned. "Baby, I'm coming."

"Go," she encouraged him and clenched her muscles so he had no other choice. He exploded within her and his movements slowed as his hips convulsed against hers and his heat spread deep within her body. She hasn't come and that's okay with her, because it's been erotic to see her husband move as he has, his jeans pushed down to his thighs, her's still on one leg. He'd wanted her and wasted very little time getting her.

She placed one leg on the floor and he slowly withdrew from her before he slipped his hand between them and gently ran his fingertips over her center. "I've got to get cleaned up," she said softly and moved his hand.

"Liv," he pulled his face back and kissed her lips tenderly. "At least let me try?"

She grinned, "It's not that, it's… I told Santo's I'd be there today to catch up on the mountains of paperwork that are undoubtedly on my desk."

He furrowed his brow as she placed her other leg on the floor, "I don't want our sex life to be one-sided, Liv… I want you to-"

"Shh," she smiled and kissed him gently back, "Believe me when I tell you… I enjoyed it, Elliot. Just because I didn't come didn't mean I didn't enjoy it. You'll have to trust me on that because my orgasm seems to be on vacation for now and that's not your fault, so… just let me enjoy having you anyway, okay?"

"You want me that bad? You can enjoy it without an orgasm?"

"Oh yeah," she chuckled, "I enjoy it that much."

He bowed his head and tried to hide his bashful grin, "That's sexy," he whispered and still held her tight.

"Yeah well I'm not gonna be real sexy in a couple of seconds, Elliot. You've got to let me get cleaned up."

He grinned again and pressed his lips to her ear, "I love coming inside of you."

Her breath hitched at his confession and she gently pushed him off of her, "We're both a mess, Elliot… I've got to get in the shower."

He grinned and stepped back, "I'll wash up right here… you grab your shower."

"Thank you," she smiled and kissed him chastely.

"Liv?" he called to her softly and pulled his pants up to his hips without regard for the button or zipper.

"Yeah?" she said and turned to look at him as she finally ditched her jeans.

"We still need to talk-"

"Will you stop killin the mood, Elliot?" she laughed and closed the gap between them, the evidence that he'd been inside of her threatening to make its self known if she didn't get into the shower soon. "We'll talk, alright?" she assured him and kissed him again, "We will. Tonight. I promise… I do want to talk, but not right now. Okay? Let me shower?"

He nodded and assessed her somewhat rigid posture with curiosity. His brows arched almost imperceptibly when he realized she was clenching her thighs to keep his release inside of her and he felt an immediate rush of blood to his groin again. "Liv-"

"El!" she pulled away immediately and her face flushed red in embarrassment. "Don't. Please? Stop looking."

He grinned and finally granted her freedom, "That's hot, Liv… wasn't trying to embarrass you."

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"So your daddy," Olivia whispered to Abel as he rested contently against her chest as she worked, "thought you and I could spend some time together today, while the Monsters are with Nicole… pretty nice of him, huh?"

Abel took in a shuddered breath and let it out with a yawn and she immediately pulled him back so she could see what he looked like, to see how the yawn had stretched and contorted his face, how his tiny arms and legs stiffened with the yawn. He was cute she decided. Absolutely cute.

"Look at all this work, Abel," she said softly as she started to fuss and pull his fist into his mouth. "There must be days and days of it on my desk," she told him and reached with one hand as she cradled him with the other and tried to calm him, knowing that if he broke into a full cry it would take much, much longer to calm him.

"Let's see," she said soothingly. "What do you think? Do you think the employees would like to get paid this month?" she asked and opened a file before looking at what she thought must have been forty or fifty more.

Abel fussed, knowing he didn't have her full attention and really that's all he wanted, to feel the security of being held safely against someone, to hear their soothing voice and feel them rock him.

Olivia looked down at her and then back at her cluttered desk. Maybe Elliot was right. Maybe it was time to start hiring someone to run the gyms so she could spend time with the kids and Abel. Maybe… maybe she was letting the gym work load consume her as much as she let SVU and she remembers exactly what had happened with that.

She peered down at Abel whose was inhaling for a full screech as his face reddened with his irritation that she split her focus, that she was trying to work and hold him at the same time and while she knows he isn't capable of knowing that was what she was doing, she can feel it in his cry and his tense body that her split would not be tolerated by him.

"You know what?" she said softly and stood slowly with him, "Who needs work, huh?" she asked, not at all expecting a response. "Who needs all that when I've got a little boy here to get to know?" she said and held him securely against her body but when he still refused to settle, when he still continued to cry she looked more carefully and smiled as she laid him gently down on the couch of her office.

"Well, see?" she cooed gently at the young baby, "I just learned something about you," she told him and immediately began to fix the blanket he was wrapped in. "You like the way your daddy swaddles you, huh?" she said and confirmed her own assertion when she tightened the blanket around his tiny body and brought him back into her arms before sitting softly with him on the couch.

Her voice was gentle as she sang tender songs of love and innocence over him and he quieted the moment he heard her voice. "See there… I know that about you too. I know you like it when I sing to you and when your Daddy walks around with you and I know you like your music on in your crib at night… Your brother, Sam really likes music, too."

Olivia sat there for long moments as she held him, watch his eyes try to focus on her face, heard him coo and move his feet in the tight warm blanket. "You're amazing," she whispered softly. "I never thought I could say that, but you are so amazing… You've got my nose and that's sort of… weird I guess but, can I tell you a secret?" she asked and paused as he simply stared at her.

"It…" she shrugged slowly, "it sort of makes me feel a little better about this whole situation, like you and I have something in common other than your father… well, but just so you know Elliot's your daddy now… he wouldn't want it any other way." She ran her fingertip lightly over his cheek. "I… he inspires me, you know? He's got this big ole' heart and he just opened it right up when he saw you. He just opened it up and took you in and… I feel a little bad that I'm playing catch-up but I hope you understand that I don't hate you. I don't," she shook her head, "I promise you, I don't hate you."

She held him even longer, ran her fingers through his silky hair and smiled, "You're making me not want to work at all," she confessed softly and looked back at her desk, "I'm gonna get further behind," she said and looked back down at Abel.

"When I had Isaac…," she chuckled at the young boy. "Oh man… it killed me to be at work and so I had pictures of him everywhere and I'd call the sitter to talk to him even if it was just so he could hear me," she told him. "And Sam, well I worried just as much when I was at work, I wondered if we'd bond, if he and I would be close, if he and your daddy would be close and everything worked out pretty well," she said proudly and traced his moist lips with her fingertip. He latched on immediately and sucked calmly on her finger as she smiled and continued to talk to him, her voice soothing him and causing his focus to stay soley on her.

"When I had The Monsters… I just wanted to stay home. Sam was older, and Isaac was just this little comedian and… I just wanted to be around them all the time," she said and gently bent her neck to kiss his forehead again. He stopped sucking on her finger the moment her lips brushed against his olive skin but the second they withdrew he began sucking again, simply staring at her.

"When I brought you home," her voice cracked suddenly and she raised her shoulder, "I didn't know what to do with you and… I'm sorry Abel, I'm sorry because I looked forward to work and… and then I just fell completely apart and yet here you are being so patient with me… that's why I think you're amazing," she said softly and looked back at her desk.

Olivia felt his warm mouth sucking softly on her finger and it occurred to her that none of her children had ever done that before. They would suck once or twice and then immediately let go, but this habit was unique to Abel. It was something they could share between the two of them no matter how ridiculous it would seem to other people.

She took into consideration that even when she was at the gym everyday she was always running behind, barely able to get pay roll done in time and her children… well she'd like to say she was okay with them hanging out in the gym's day care and playing in her office but really when she thought about it like she is doing now, it simply served as a reminder to the fact that she could be spending more time with them.

The reality was she and Elliot were blessed. Neither of them really had to work, yet they did so out of habit and structure and routine, but they weren't living paycheck to paycheck and they could more than afford to higher one or two people to do the books so she could spend time with her kids, stop by the gym's here and again, maybe daily just to make sure everything was on track, but spend countless hours there? Have her kids grow up there? No. No that wasn't necessary at all.

Olivia stood with Abel in her arms and crossed the room to the phone on her desk. She'd pushed the button to the front desk and took a deep breath with Santo's picked up on the other end, "Santo's, you got a second?" she asked and gently bounced on her feet to keep Abel soothed.

"That's what you pay me for Mrs. Stabler."

"I also pay you to call me Olivia but we see how well you listen," she teased.

"Sorry, Olivia… what can I do? You want me to come up for Abel?"

"No way," she smiled and the sincerity in her voice surprised her and left her momentarily speechless.

"Olivia?" Santos questioned on the other line.

Olivia snapped back into the conversation and tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear to hold Abel more comfortably, she smiled at him, "Santos, I want to put an ad in the paper."

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"Excuse me, miss?" an older gentleman waved her to his table and motioned to his coffee mug, "I've asked you to re-fill it several times now, do you think I can get the coffee?"

Marge gave a tight smile and promptly placed her tablet in her apron and bowed her head to the man in apology, "I'm so sorry, let me get that for you," she said and promptly removed the mug from the table to refill it. She'd been eyeing the clock all day wondering how her son was doing at the day care that looked as disheveled as one could be and still be legal, but it was cheap, and money was more than tight.

She'd been crying just the night before when she calculated her finances, what she knew would be going out versus what was in the bank and what would be coming in and boy did she pick the state to move to because jobs were virtually impossible to come by. She could fall back on her law-degree or her teaching credential and be immediately traced and found just as soon as soon as she could imagine.

She'd been crying and thought she hit rock bottom until she figured out that the only thing available was being a waitress in a run down diner because she had no idea what the hell she was doing. So far, she's dropped three plates, got an obnoxious amount of orders wrong and she'd like to pour the mug of freshly poured coffee in her hand, right into the old-farts lap.

"So sorry about that sir," she said softly and placed the steaming beverage on his table as she walked away, her irritation with her newly given name festering within her. She was a ridiculous stereotype. Marge the waitress only this particular Marge was also pregnant.

"Miss!" The older man groaned in irritation from his table.

Marge turned and faced him, "Yes?"

"I asked for half decaf and half regular… this is full regular and it's simply too hot."

_Is there a damn Starbucks sign outside? _

"I'm sorry, Sir-"

"Are you new at this or what? I asked for a simple cup of coffee," he blabbed and the next table over began to signal for her assistance.

"I am new, I'm sorry, sir," Marge replied and bit her bottom lip trying desperately to keep her eyes from watering. How had she come to this?

Oh right, she screwed another man and got knocked up with his child. Has been too prideful to go back to her husband who may or may not know she's pregnant. Right. Okay. Moving along.

"Hey lady!" a young twentish looking male called with his hand held in the air, snapping as if she were a dog, "Can you take our order or what?"

Marge pushed her glasses along her nose and grabbed quickly at the hot cup of coffee. In fact, she'd grabbed too quickly and the beverage spilled onto her body producing a piercing scream of pain as it seeped through her uniform and burned her skin.

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Elliot knocked softly onto the office of his wife's door and smiled when he opened it gently and saw her laid on the couch a small bundle of blue on her chest while Hannah and Solomon piled sloppily on her legs. He'd taken Sam to his voice lesson and Isaac to play in the park and have a bite of ice cream as they waited for Sam to finish.

He'd played with Isaac, went down the slide with him and laughed with him when he didn't quite get his feet out in time to stand up after at the bottom of the slide. Instead he'd fallen on his butt and laughed with his father who helped him up and into his arms. Sam had groan anxious the moment they'd picked him up from his voice lesson. Yet, this was how it was when he went to Maggs.

There were days that he went without worry and still there were days like today when Elliot had to pull over and allow his son to vomit. Watch, as Isaac rubbed Sam's back and assured him everything would be okay. Elliot had smiled soflty when Sam simply leaned against him and told him that today would be hard at Maggs for him but that he would go.

Elliot had walked with Isaac into the gym and smiled as he rocketed to the day care in search of a playmate but his heart worried for Sam who he knew he'd pick up in less than an hour. He couldn't help but notice the difference between his two boys, his five-year-old who happily ran to his destination and his thirteen-year-old who struggled to keep in his tears as he walked to his.

Yet, this… this scene of his wife and toddlers and his infant son all asleep and together on one small couch caused him to smile as he crossed the room to them. Olivia looked peaceful, she looked content and his little ones were happily asleep on her legs, Hannah tucked between her mother's leg and the back of the couch as Solomon looked to be holding on for dear life as he snored and slobbered against his mother jeans.

Elliot grabbed a blanket from the playpen and laid it on the ground. He extracted Solomon gently and carefully and laid him on the soft blanket followed by his sister who simply snuggled up to her brother and rested peacefully next to him. Gently, he removed his wife's hand from his son's small back and carefully lifted him into his arms, a gentle, lingering kiss placed on his forehead as Olivia stirred and rolled to her side, "Thank you," she muttered sleepily and pulled her legs up as far as the narrow couch would allow her.

He placed Abel in the playpen and returned to his wife, "Liv... Liv, come with me to get Sam… let's go home where you can really rest. I'll come in tonight and get the work that I know how to do caught up."

Her eyes fluttered open and she turned around to face him on the couch, "I didn't realize I was tired until I laid down."

"That's usually how it works," he said and ran his hand through her short hair, "Sam's at Maggs… not easy getting' him in there. We're gonna have a rough night with him, I think."

She nodded softly, "He's definitely got something on his mind, but you and I both know how he is… he'll tell us when he wants to."

"Yeah," he agreed and held out his hand to her, "Come on, let's load up the kids, grab some coffee and pick up Sam."

She took his hand and let him pull her up into his arms, she rested her head on his chest and allowed herself to be content, not to feel the dread of tonight, the dread of what they may have to go through with Samuel tonight. Then again, he may bounce back and everything would be okay. The sessions with Maggs, were just too unpredictable to know, so she would force herself not to worry until the time comes.

"I have something for you," she said softly and kissed his neck.

"Ohhh, a present?" he grinned and kissed her cheek. "Is it you naked with just a bow?"

She chuckled and swatted him playfully before taking his hand and leading him to her desk that was still very much cluttered.

"I thought you were gonna work today?" he asked her with wide eyes as he stared at the amount of work she didn't get done which appeared to be almost all of it.

"I did… I did payroll and then played with the kids," she told him and retrieved a standard white envelope from her desk and handed it to him with a smile.

He looked at it and raised a brow but was caught off guard by a new picture on the filing cabinet. He furrowed his brows and stared at the picture, "Is that Hannah?"

Olivia diverted her attention to the small picture held by a magnet on her filing cabinet. "Yeah… she slipped out of bed this morning after I laid her down with you and she managed to get your old Marine hat… she had it on and it was so cute I snapped a picture and emailed it to myself… it's hot off the printer," she smiled but her smile instantly faded when she noticed Elliot's clenched jaw.

He reached out and took the photo off the cabinet and stared at it. Remembered the blood that trickled down his neck as he and his fellow Marines ran for their lives. He remembered the screaming in that small hut as a young child held an AK-47 at him and he remembered the sound of that child's body hitting the deck after he'd pulled the trigger to his service weapon in self-defense.

The photo was innocent, his three-year-old nude daughter in her father's military hat, her broad smile and perfectly spaced teeth, her large brown eyes staring at the camera covered sporadically by her dark bangs.

"El?" Olivia whispered, "What is it?"

Elliot slowly replaced the photo and looked at his wife. "El? You okay? You were sleeping, its okay that she wondered off, she wouldn't have been able to get out of the hou-"

He pulled her close to him and hid his face in her neck, "Promise me you'll never let her join, Liv. Never."

She was taken back by his sudden request yet she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, "El… she's three, I don't think she's signing on the dotted line anytime soon-"

"Promise me," he said again. "Liv, promise me. None of the kids. You can't support them joining. Promise me."

She nodded against him, "Okay… okay. I promise."

He pulled back and nodded to the photo again, "I mean, it's a cute picture, but… I just…," he shook his head, "I don't want our kids in uniform, Liv."

Her brows dipped, "Okay. That's fair… do you want me to throw the picture away?"

"No," he nodded. "No. It's cute, I mean it. I just… I don't know," he took a refreshing breath and changed the subject. "What's in this envelope, huh?"

She grinned as he sat in her chair and pulled her into his lap, "Oh, I think you'll like it."

"Nude photos of you?" he asked as he ran his finger under the flap.

"Not exactly, no," she smiled. "But with this it'll give us more time to explore our possibilities."

He stared at her for a moment. Took her confession into consideration and filed it under things to ask about later. "I'm really starting to like these gifts you're giving, lately," he murmured softly and unfolded the paper.

It took him a moment before his brows raised, "A bill? You gave me a bill?" he asked and looked up at her. "Can't say that's the sexist thing ever, but… ooookay," he drawled.

She swatted him playfully on the chest, "It's a bill for a Help Wanted ad."

"Help wanted?" he furrowed his brows and sneakily grazed her nipple with the pad of his thumb. "You sayin' I'm not getting the job done?"

She covered his hand with her own and pressed his palm firmly against her breast, "Help Wanted ad…. For someone to run this place."

His jaw dropped and then he grinned immediately and moved his hand from her breast to her neck and pulled her close for a kiss. "You're gonna finally higher someone to do the books?"

She smirked, "Yeah… maybe I'll come in a few hours here and there, but, I was holding Abel today and… there's more to life than work."

"Abel showed you that?" Elliot asked in slight awe.

"Yeah," she nodded softly. "I want to be as close to him as I am with the rest of the kids, Elliot and sitting behind this desk… isn't gonna cut it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Would you like some more tissue, Sam?" Maggs asked softly.

"Yeah, please," he nodded and felt for the offering of soft cotton. He wiped at his nose and face and shuddered as he exhaled and tried to breathe a little more steady.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" he answered softly.

"Want to tell me why you've been crying since you got here? Did you have a fight with Crystal?"

"No."

"Are the boys at school still teasing you because you didn't know what masturbation was?"

Sam sniffled and shrugged slowly, "A little… they laugh still. I didn't tell Mom or Dad, but… that's not why I'm… I'm…" he exhaled in frustration. "I don't know what I am."

"Are you still having a hard time with Abel?" she asked and crossed her legs, focusing on the young boy in front of her.

"Maggs?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think I'm old enough to meet my dad?" he asked simply.

Maggs' dark brows arched in confusion, "Sam, you see your dad everyday, don't you?"

"No," Sam exhaled, "I mean, my _real_ dad… do you think I'm old enough to meet him?"

Maggs took a long breath, "That's a pretty huge step to take, Sam… have you been thinking about it much?"

"Since Abel came to live with us," he admitted and ran his hand through his hair. "My hair… I have to have my mom cut it again."

Magg's nodded absently, "Samuel… what is it about Abel that makes you want to know your fath-"

Sam rose in instant anger and yelled in Maggs' direction, "I don't want to know him like that!" he hollered, his hands stressed in front of him as the chords of his neck strained and Maggs watched with her mouth agape at his sudden outburst. "I don't! I don't want to be his friend or his son or anything else! I HATE HIM! You understand me! I hate him and I wish he were dead!"

"Sa-"

"I wish he were dead," Sam began to cry again and resigned himself to his seat once more as he held his face in his hands and sobbed, "Why didn't he love me, Maggs? Why'd he have to do those things to me? Why couldn't he just love me like my mom and dad do?"

Maggs exhaled slowly and let him cry before she pulled her chair closer to him, "Samuel?"

"What?" he whimpered and wiped at his eyes again.

"What do you think will happen if you were to meet your real father?" she asked gently.

"I'll be strong," he told her adamantly. "I'll be strong and everything will be on the right path."

Maggs tilted her head sensing she was on to something, "Why would meeting your father suddenly made you strong, Sam?"

Sam ran his hand through his hair again and bit his top lip, "I heard my mom and dad talking one day and… I hear them a lot and I figured out that the man who hurt her was Abel's dad."

Maggs' brow arched and she was shocked, truly shocked, "Oh… you're mom must be making a major adjustment-"

"He's also supposed to be my uncle, 'cause he was her brother so that makes him my uncle, right?"

Maggs was thankful Sam couldn't see the shock written as clear as day across her face, "R-right…She must have a big heart," she said because really, that's all she could say due to the shock.

"Well, see," Sam started again and his leg bounced frantically in uneasiness, "I heard them talkin' and… she went to see her brother and then she got Abel and today… you should'a heard her voice Maggs, she was… happy and strong and she sounded like she could do anything and when I asked her questions, when I asked her hard questions she didn't get all weird like she used too and I asked her if Abel made her strong and she said yes."

Maggs licked her lips not quite making the connection, "S-"

"So you see, Mom confronted him and made him know by taking Abel that she wasn't scared anymore, and now she's strong, so I gotta go to my dad so he knows I'm not scared either and then everything will be okay."


End file.
